Just Give Me a Reason
by supercommpromises
Summary: Everything is supposed to be going well. Mike's out of college and they both have jobs they enjoy, going home to their small apartment at the end of the day. But their home is cold and El can't pretend everything is okay anymore. (Smut, hate sex, angst, jealousy, more angst, more smut, happy ending)
1. Chapter 1

**_AN:_**

 ** _Finally had an idea. This is going to be really angsty and painful and you're not going to like Mike that much for a while. I'm thinking six chapters but it might be less. Let the pain begin._**

* * *

El paced the length of the apartment, feeling stupid and ridiculous.

To be fair, anyone who had been wearing a slutty french maid costume for almost three hours while waiting for their significant other to get home from work would feel stupid too. She had called Mike's work—the IT department at some tech company—and his beeper several times after the first two hours, and the silence was making her worried and pissing her off.

He was late. Again.

If it was just occasionally, or if he called to let her know, she wouldn't mind so much. But this had been going on for _months_ and even her job down the street at the coffee shop couldn't distract her from the fact that she felt… lonely. He always came home tired, shoving down dinner (if she made any) and then falling onto the couch and turning on the TV before passing out. Some nights she just left him there, crawling into their bed by herself and trying to understand what was happening.

He hadn't touched her in weeks… maybe even months, always saying he was tired or busy, which he honestly was. But he wasn't even trying anymore and she didn't know why.

So she had done something desperate and stupid, thinking that it might actually work. He'd always like when she'd worn something sexy, so she'd gone to the nearest trashy sex shop and bought the stupid costume, hoping that maybe it would be enough to break him from his monotone routine. To make him _look_ at her.

But he wasn't even here to see, probably fixing some higher-up's computer because if there was one thing Mike was bad at, it was saying no to more work. Because he loved his job, he loved fixing fried circuits and reprogramming fucked up hard drives and whatever the fuck else he mentioned when they occasionally talked.

At first she'd thought maybe he was just having a mood or needed some space. Those magazines she read in waiting rooms always mentioned that. Sometimes your man just needs to figure some things, give him some space. So she had, taking more evening shifts and coming home to their humble apartment after he'd already fallen asleep. He would get up early before she would wake up and for a while she only saw him once or twice a day.

But nothing had worked and now she was sitting on the beat-up couch, feeling like everything was falling apart.

 _Knock knock_

She ran to the door, not really thinking about the fact that Mike wouldn't knock, he would just unlock the door and come in silently as usual. But she was too desperate to think or care, throwing open the door with a wide smile that quickly fell off her face. It was one of her neighbors—Jake? Josh?—and his eyes immediately went down to her outfit, pausing before going back to meet her eyes.

"Oh," she blinked at him. "Hello."

"Hi… Jane, right? You live here with Mike?" He licked his lips. "I'm your neighbor, from apartment 24. James," he supplied helpfully.

"Right, hi, um…" she closed the door a bit, trying to hide behind it . "Did you need something?"

"Sort of. Me and my roommate, we wanted to get to know our neighbors since we moved in like a month ago. We're throwing a little get together this Saturday night. Free booze." He was smiling, glancing down at the short skirt that barely covered her thighs. "If, uh, you wanted to come, we'd love to get to know you."

There was a weight in his words and she shuffled her high heel covered feet, suddenly unsure of what to say. Mike wouldn't want to go, and the way James was looking at her made her definitely not want to go by herself. Before she could open her mouth to politely refuse, there was the sound of footsteps and keys jangling and Mike appeared around the corner.

His eyes widened at the sight of the open door, and his girlfriend talking to that stupidly attractive guy who lived a few doors down. And she was wearing fucking lingerie.

"El?" His voice was sharp. "What's going on?"

He was there in an instant, between the two of them, glancing at what she was wearing and back at the "friendly" neighbor, his eyes suddenly fiery. His arm wrapped around her waist possessively and he glared at the other man, waiting for an explanation. James backed off a bit.

"I was just inviting you guys to a meet-the-neighbors party, this Saturday night?" he smiled, unable to keep from glancing at El's legs again.

El didn't know what was happening, but she felt herself melting against Mike's arm, almost sighing in relief as he pulled her closer to him. He'd always had a bit of a jealous streak, but her heart started pounding as she realized that he was still very much possessive of her, despite the distance between them lately.

"We'll go," she blurted, smiling at James. "What time?"

"Seven, but uh, most people don't show up until eight so you don't have to rush or anything," he grinned at her, not noticing the death glare he was getting from Mike.

"Perfect. See you then."

She gave him a polite smile and then shoved her boyfriend into the apartment and shut the door behind her, feeling oddly excited.

"What the fuck are you wearing? And why are you talking to him like that? What the fuck is going on?" Mike was livid. "We're not going to that party."

"Yes, we are. You never want to do anything because you work but you don't work Saturdays so we're going to meet our neighbors."

She had her arms crossed, jaw set, and he realized that she wasn't budging on that one, deicidng to focus back on the fact that she was dressed like a slutty maid. And she had answered the door.

"Whatever. Can you please tell me what you think you're doing running around looking like _that_?!"

"I wasn't running around, I was waiting for you and then he knocked on the door—"

"So you answered?! There wasn't any part of you that thought it was bad idea?!" He yelled, not noticing how she flinched. "God, anyone could have walked past and seen you looking like stupid slut!"

Suddenly it was too much, all of it, and her bottom lip trembled. That one had hurt, even if he was just having a tantrum, when he didn't think before he said things. El turned away.

"I wore it for _you_. I was waiting for you to get home but—" Her voice broke. "You didn't call and you were late… I'm so stupid. I keep trying but you just don't care anymore."

"Oh, so it's my fault, huh? Everything is always my fault!" He shot back.

"I didn't say that! I'm just… I'm so tired of trying. You don't care anymore and I don't know what to do…" The tears fell from her eyes and she turned to go, feeling her heart cracking apart even further. "You're right. I'm just a stupid slut."

Her feet took her towards their bedroom and she felt the ghost of a hand on her elbow, but she pulled away, walking faster.

"El. El, wait, I'm sorry—"

She slammed the door shut in his face just as the sob she'd been stifling broke out of her chest. Her back hit the door and she slid down, covering her face and sobbing into her hands, feeling like the stupidest person in the whole world. He didn't care anymore, about anything, but especially not about her. She was nothing, just a stupid little girl who couldn't make the boy she'd loved since she was twelve happy anymore. Moving to the city with him had been a mistake, but she'd thought they would always be happy, that he would always want her.

She had been wrong.

He loved his job more, or technology, or whatever it was, it was more important than her. Maybe it was time she went home, to Hawkins, and started over. Because Mike didn't care anymore and she was done trying.

She started ripping the stupid costume off, sobbing angrily and feeling stupid all over again, for thinking it would make a difference. It hadn't changed anything, he still hadn't—

Pausing, she looked down, rubbing the cheap silk between her fingers, thinking. He _had_ cared, he had grabbed her and put his arm around her when he had seen James looking at her in this stupid outfit. He had been jealous, possessive even, and it made her heart speed up. Maybe it wasn't over yet… maybe there was a way for her to make him care again.

She put on some pajamas and then went over to the closet, digging through until she found that slinky black dress. Max had convinced her to buy it, but it was tight, like super tight, with thin straps and low scooping neckline that made her boobs look fantastic. She'd never worn it—it made her feel self-conscious—but it would be perfect for a party. There were black boots to match, that went over her knee and would highlight just how short the dress was, showing off her toned legs.

It was slutty, something she probably would have only worn for Mike, but he didn't give two shits anymore. She was a stupid slut, might as well play the part.

The party was in two days. She could fake it for another two days.

Wiping her eyes, she put the outfit back in the closet and then slowly opened the door, halfway hoping he would still be out there, begging for forgiveness. But she could hear the TV and realized he was probably already passed out on the couch. What a great apology.

He wasn't asleep and looked over when she came out of the room, taking in her red eyes and puffy face.

"You okay?" He seemed nervous.

"I'm fine," she bluffed, walking to the kitchen and putting on the kettle. "Just forget it."

It was quiet for a moment and then she let out a silent exhale, calling to him from the kitchen, her voice wavering just slightly.

"You know, now we have to go that party."

"Why?"

"Because I said we would. It would be rude not to. They're just our neighbors, it won't be that bad," she insisted.

"I don't want to go."

"He said there'd be free booze. We could just go and get drunk and then come back. It's not like we live that far away."

There was a contemplative pause and she could almost hear him thinking. They didn't really have enough to afford alcohol that often, and it was just down the hall. He could abandon ship at any time. It was a pretty sweet deal.

"Yeah, okay. Why not."

"Cool."

The kettle whistled and she poured the boiling water into her mug, not bothering to hide the smirk that twitched her lips. Her plan just might work after all. ****

* * *

 ** _AN:_**

 ** _There's an explanation for everything but you won't get that until later. This supposed to just be a grown up Mileven fic, not an AU. It's just a depressing take on it. Let me know if it's interesting and I'll try and post more. The next chapter is smutty smut smut, because let's be honest, that's what I do._**


	2. Chapter 2

**_AN:_**

 _ **I feel bad because I unintentionally lied. There's no smut yet because... it just didn't fit yet. I need to get my pacing straight before I make bad promises. I'm posting early to make up for it and still working on the smut so it'll be ready... soon?**_

 _ **Sorry.**_

 _ **Thanks for all the amazing reviews and encouragement. I didn't think anyone would like it this much but you guys are the fucking sweetest. I kind of love you.**_

* * *

Staring at her reflection, El shuddered. There was no doubt she looked super fucking hot, but some part of her still unsure about what she was about to do. It seemed like the only way to get his attention again and god damn it all, she was desperate.

The dress fit like a glove, highlighting every curve and detail of her body, the neckline scooping low and showing the curve of her breasts. She was no hourglass, but she had enough and her legs looked miles long in the boots, the edge of the skirt skimming just above the middle of her thigh. To make it worse (or better), she wasn't wearing a bra, and she knew the second she got cold, it would obvious… which was the point.

She looked like a slut, with red, pouty lips and curled, messy hair, but she figured maybe that was what he wanted? He was going to get it tonight, that was for sure.

With a final glance at her image in the mirror, she nodded and then opened the bathroom door, glancing around. He was probably on the couch which was good, she would be able to make it out the front door before he would notice.

"Mike," she walked quickly past the living room and to the door, not looking at him. "I'm ready, let's go."

"Woah, wait a sec—"

She was out the door, knowing he would have to follow, letting her hips swing a bit. It was after eight, which meant the party would be in full swing, and she'd been able to hear the music from down the hall for half an hour. Maybe it had started as a simple meet-the-neighbors thing, but clearly it had turned into a crazy rager. Perfect.

"El, what are you wearing?" Mike was behind her as she knocked on the door. "Is that new?"

"No. I've had it for months," she retorted, still not looking him in the eye.

"You look—"

The door swung open and James leaned out, a sea of people behind him filling every available inch of his apartment. He opened his mouth to welcome them but his jaw dropped as he took her in, the tight dress and boots, her hand on her hip as her red lips smiled prettily. He swallowed, not even looking at Mike.

"Wow, um, hey guys. Glad you could make it," he stepped to the side. "Drinks are in the kitchen."

"Thank you," she lowered her voice and tilted her head. "We're glad to be here."

"El—"

Mike tried one more time, his hand on her wrist, but she was walking into the crowded apartment and pulling him with her. There was music blaring and people huddled in various groups, the living room turned into a giant dance floor. She could feel the eyes on her, could almost hear the whispers, but she ignored them, trying to walk confidently towards the small kitchen as her boyfriend followed clumsily behind her.

"What do you have to drink?" she asked the guy—who she guessed was James's roommate—standing by the counter.

He looked at her and then smiled, looking like a shark who'd just smelled blood, gesturing to several bottles on the counter and a large bowl of jungle juice.

"I could mix you something or we have the mystery that is the punch bowl. Beers and wine coolers in the fridge," he licked his lips hungrily. "I'm Caleb, by the way, one of your gracious hosts."

She smiled, reaching up to tug one of her curls. "What kind of drinks can you make?"

Mike was behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged him off, ignoring him and giving Caleb a flirty smile. He smiled back.

"Well, I can do your typical stuff, I'm a bartender," he explained, grabbing a tumbler off the counter and few bottles. "Tequila Sunrise, Long Island Iced Tea, Mai Tai, Mojito…" he mixed a drink as he talked, some sort of cream liqueur and amaretto and… coffee? El let herself look interested as he continued talking. "But I think you look like you could use something else. Something… special."

"What would that be?" She played along, tugging the circle pendant necklace that hung around her neck, forcing his eyes to go to her neckline.

He handed her the tumbler full of ice and then shook the cocktail mixer, before leaning forward and pulling the lid off and pouring it into her glass. It was creamy and thick and Caleb smiled wickedly, leaning forward, his breath in her ear.

"It's called a Screaming Orgasm," he explained, "and it's one of my specialities."

She shivered at the tone of his voice, feeling slightly repulsed at how crude he was, but just smiled and brought the glass to her lips, taking a sip, figuring it couldn't actually have anything disgusting in since she had watched him make it. It was delicious and she nodded, pleasantly surprised.

"Wow," she took another longer drink. "It's fucking amazing."

There was a moment as he stared at her, taking in every inch of her, looking hungry and she leaned back, bumping into Mike. Oh right, that's why she was here. That's why she was doing all of this. She looked over her shoulder at him, but realized he'd missed hearing the name of the drink and just looked generally uncomfortable. Damn it, she'd done all that flirting for nothing? Why couldn't he pay attention for once?

He ducked around her, eyes narrowed at Caleb, not liking how he was looking at her.

"Can I just have a beer?" He yelled to be heard. "Whatever you have is fine."

Caleb looked between them, an eyebrow raised, but nodded and opened the fridge, tossing Mike a can of some fancy beer. He turned his attention back to El, that wolfish look still in his eyes.

"So, what did you say your name was?" he asked.

"Jane," she answered automatically, holding out her hand.

He shook it. "And we're neighbors, huh?"

"Apartment 27," Mike cut in, looking between the two, noticing how Caleb used the handshake to pull El closer. "I'm Mike, by the way, her _boyfriend_."

"Oh, really? I thought maybe you were siblings," Caleb shot back, looking suddenly disappointed.

Mike set his hand on her waist and pulled her back towards him as Caleb glanced down at her cleavage and legs with unhidable longing. The jab was obvious—they didn't look related at all—and Mike frowned.

"Nope, we've been together since we were kids. It's great," he blustered. "Childhood sweethearts and all that cute shit."

"Oh, cool. I just haven't seen you around at all. My mistake."

El rolled her eyes at Mike's explanation. Yeah, sure. Everything was great. That's why she was dressed like some kind of call girl at a shitty apartment party trying to make him jealous. How great. She pushed his hand off of her and then threw another smile at Caleb.

"Maybe I'll see you later," she smiled and then turned, letting her hips sway.

Mike was hot on her heels and he grabbed her wrist, making her jerk to stop and almost spill her drink. With a frown she whirled to face him. He looked less than pleased.

"What is going on? That guy was flirting with you, El!"

"He was just making me a drink," she rolled her eyes. "Drink you beer and chill out."

"And why are you _dressed_ like that?!"

"Because I like to look good?" She ripped her wrist out of his grip and frowned at him. "When did you start caring about how I dress? When did you start caring about anything I do?"

"El…"

He sighed and she felt a spike of irritation. Yet another reason for him to be annoyed with her and ignore her. What was even the point of any of this? She was here, flirting with other guys and looking like walking sex and he still barely cared. Maybe it was pointless, maybe she should just go home—

"Ow!"

"Shit!"

Someone crashed into her from behind and her drink flew from her hand, splattering all over Mike and down the front of his shirt. He looked down at the mess, clearly annoyed, and then back at her as she covered her mouth with her hand. Damn it, that had been a really good drink.

"S-Sorry," she shook her head.

"It's fine, I just…" he sighed in annoyance. "I'm going to go clean up in the bathroom. Stay put until I get back."

He turned vanished into the sea of people and she frowned at what he said. He wasn't allowed to order her around, like he was the boss of her or something. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted, even at a party where she was scantily clad and admittedly not in the best state of mind.

A flash of rebellious hatred surged through her and she turned to the nearest person, grabbing the red cup out of their hand. She ignored their yelp and then tilted her head back and chugged all of it one go.

There was a cheer as she swallowed the last drop, and she let it fall to the floor, wiping her mouth and smudging her lipstick. That had felt good. People were looking at her, smiling, and she let herself smile back, raising her fist and letting out a whoop, feeling a bit stupid and slightly tipsy, feeding off their energy.

Suddenly James was in front of her, smiling that crocodile smile, and he pulled her towards the makeshift dance floor.

"Want to dance?" he yelled to her over the thumping music.

"Sure!" _Why the fuck not._ "I love to dance!"

The song was slower and sensual, some R. Kelly song, and she started to sway her hips, letting the music move through her, the alcohol hitting her system, everything getting warmer and easier. She was buzzed, but not drunk, and it helped to just take the edge of. Dancing was fun, she wondered why she didn't make Mike go out more and dance with her.

Oh right. Because Mike didn't want to do anything with her anymore.

Suddenly there were hands on her waist, pulling her back, and someone was grinding himself against her ass. It took her by surprise but she reached up, wrapping her arms around him and resting her palm on the back his neck, closing her eyes and moving her hips more slowly, letting it happen. No one had touched her like this in… forever, and some part of her hazy mind had decided it was Mike, finally making a move after seeing her dressed so sexy.

The hand on her hip moved up, squeezing her breast and she gasped, her arms dropping as she whirled. Definitely not Mike, he would never do that in public. James grinned down at her instead, an eyebrow raised as he pulled her close to him, his other hand grabbing her ass through the thin dress, pressing her against the front of him.

"You sure that guy is your boyfriend?" He leaned down close, growling into her ear. "Seems to me like you're wasting your time."

"I…" she blinked up at him, feeling frozen.

His hands were everywhere and it felt good but she didn't want it to be him, she wanted it to be Mike. But it wasn't and she didn't know what to do, what to say to make everything stop. There was a sudden shout from the other side of the room, over the sound of the music, and Mike was standing there, watching them, eyes blazing.

He was next to her in two seconds, his fist careening through the air and catching James right in the jaw, knocking the sleaze away from her, sending him stumbling back. El felt her jaw drop, completely stunned, but then she realized what he'd done and panicked.

"Mike!" she shrieked in disbelief. "Stop it!"

"Don't touch her, you piece of shit! She's my fucking girlfriend!"

There was an "ooooh" from the crowd and then James stood back up, holding his jaw and glaring between the two of them.

"Then why has she been all over me and my roommate, huh?" He got right up in Mike's face, fists clenching. "You must be a pretty shitty boyfriend if you can't keep something like _that_ happy. She's basically asking for it and you're too busy fucking off to even notice!"

"Don't talk about her like that!"

Mike swung again but James was ready and dodged easily, shoving Mike so hard he almost fell over. El felt panic well up. This wasn't what she had wanted, she'd just wanted to make him jealous, not start a _fight_. She didn't want anyone to get hurt.

"Stop! Stop it!' She screamed, grabbing Mike and pulling him away. "Mike, please! Don't!"

"He was _touching_ you!" His eyes were wild. "He was touching _you_!"

"Don't do this! Don't fight! It's not worth it!"

He stared down at her, and she felt like he was finally seeing part of her, the dress and smudged red lipstick and messy hair. It had all been for him but he didn't realize it, didn't know what he was doing to her. His hand wrapped her wrist and he was pulling her out of the room, away from the party, down the hall and into their apartment, everything fading behind them.

The door closed and he let her go, facing away from her, trembling with… rage? She couldn't tell what he was feeling, everything suddenly feeling so messy and fucked up. It was fucked up. They were fucked up. And she didn't know what to do that wouldn't make it worse.

* * *

 ** _AN:_**

 ** _I really don't blame you if you hate Mike right now. I kind of do too. Nobody is perfect, I think they've both proved that so far. Sometimes I feel like I need to justify their actions from my point of view I don't know why. Sometimes some of you don't get it so I try and help. I think about all of their actions in my stories a lot, everything has a reason. But whatever._**

 ** _Smut is coming so if that's what you're here for... it's coming. It's just really emotionally charged so I'm trying to make sure it makes sense. I don't think I've ever written such a complicated smut scene before honestly, trying to explain both of their feelings is really exhausting._**

 ** _Anyways, encouragement and reviews and comments are appreciated, even if you're telling me you fucking hate it. I like knowing what you guys like._**

 ** _I did warn you all this was going to be depressing. I tried._**

 ** _P.S. Allikat you're the most precious being on the earth and your comment made me almost cry. Thanks for being so kind. I'll try not to let you down._**

 ** _P.P.S Screaming Anon Guest I'm glad to see you again, you make me laugh out loud and I've honest to god showed my friends your comments because they're that amazing. Never change._**

 ** _~Wyn_**


	3. Chapter 3

**_AN:_**

 ** _Lemme clear something up real quick: I didn't say everyone hated Mike or that everyone should. I was just saying I wouldn't blame you if you did. I'm writing a lot of this story from El's POV so I'm in her mindset and I'm not too fond of him right now. It's just how I write, it's not that deep lol._**

 ** _Secondly, I wanted to say that this story kind of connects to my other ones? Specifically Red Christmas and First Time For Everything. The other ones are meh but those two are in the timeline before this one. If you've read them you can see why El is extra devastated by Mike's distance considering how close they were. Just a bit of perspective to understand why she acted out (which doesn't make it right)._**

 ** _Quick shoutout to 101 for catching the Weeknd thing. I've been switching back and forth between writing this one (set in the 90s) and a modern story and I get all muddled. I fixed it so thank you for pointing that out! I'm such a shit for details._**

 ** _Lastly: This story is depressing. Angst with more angst. I thought I made that clear. It's gonna have a happy ending but it's not going to be happy until then. If you don't want depressing... run away now._**

* * *

The door had just closed behind her and El was staring at Mike's back as he ran his fingers through his hair, still in agony over what had just happened. She felt a bolt of guilt, for her stupid plan to make him jealous. It hadn't been smart but he had taken it too far.

Suddenly she was _pissed_.

"What the fuck, Mike?" Her voice seethed. "You punched our fucking neighbor!"

He whirled, and when his eyes met hers, she felt herself shiver, goosebumps covering her arms, her nipples pebbling beneath the thin cotton fabric, every inch of her skin electric. Now he was looking her all over and she let her hands drop, let him see what he had made her become. A stupid slut.

"You let him touch you."

The words hung heavy between them and she saw rage spark into his eyes as he stared at her, feeling her temper flare back up.

"It's not like you ever touch me!" The words weren't hers, fueled by anger. "It was about time _someone_ did!"

"You let him _touch_ you, El!" His voice was choked. "He touched you, he would have fucked you if you let him. He would have—"

He couldn't finish the sentence, the thought too terrible. Why was this the thing that made him react, someone else barging in? Why hadn't her begging and crying been enough to wake him up?

She _wanted_ him to hurt, spitting out the words.

"Maybe I should have let him. Maybe he should have fucked me. You sure as hell won't."

That was all it took and he was on her in an instant, slamming her against the door, his hands under her thighs, lifting her up and pressing every inch of himself against her. Their mouths clashed, their teeth clacking, and then he was kissing her so hard her lips hurt, her hands tangling into his mop of hair and pulling. His hips were ramming into her, like he was trying to get inside of her even though he was wearing jeans, the friction making her moan.

Finally. _Finally_.

His hands cupped her ass, squeezing so hard she whimpered, and she bucked against him, more than willing. This was what she'd been waiting for and he was finally giving it to her. Her head fell back and he was biting her throat and collarbones, making her wince as he left red and purple marks all over. Marking her in spots that were hard to hide. Claiming her, so everyone would know.

He was angry at her which had been the point. But she realized she was too.

Is this really what it had taken? Her damn-near fucking another guy for him to pay attention to her again? She didn't even think that James was cute, but it had been the only way to get Mike to even _look_ at her and she was angry that it had taken so much.

Suddenly he was lifting her, throwing her over his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her legs, carrying her down the hall to their bedroom. Her back hit the mattress as he slung her onto the quilt, knocking the breath right out of her, and then he was on top of her, invading every inch of her space and filling up her vision with him.

His eyes were black fire, taking in every inch of her, sitting on her legs so she was helpless to move, licking his lips. There was an obvious bulge in the front of his jeans and she felt heat pooling between her legs, his mere gaze enough to get her wet. This was going to happen and she was more than ready, squirming beneath him, wanting it to start.

Rough fingers grabbed the neckline of her dress, and then there was the sound of fabric tearing as he ripped it open, all the way down to her belly button, her perky breasts springing free. He paused and licked his lips, like he had forgotten how much he loved her boobs, one hand tracing a hardened nipple. His gaze went down further and his fingers round the torn black cotton again. She gasped, eyes widening, and he tore it even further until it split all the way, down to her thighs, the fabric falling open. He choked at the sight of her naked body, already damp with her sweat, her thighs slick from her arousal.

"Fuck, El, I knew you weren't wearing a bra, but not even panties?" He stared down at the dark curls between her thighs before glancing up at her again. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"That someone was going to fuck me," she spat. "I just wasn't sure if it was going to be you."

His knees forced her thighs apart and he was down on top of her, between her legs, pinning her hands above her head. She fought, trying to pull out of his grip, not wanting him to have control of her but she wasn't strong enough, struggling in vain. He seemed smug about being in charge of her, but then scowled again at her words.

"You really think someone else would have? Is that what you wanted?"

"Yes," she bluffed. A lie.

"You really would let another guy touch you? Let him taste you and feel you?" He was growling out the words. "Let him _fuck_ you?"

"M-Maybe!" She was losing but not willingly.

He got down in her face and she shuddered despite herself as his body pressed against her naked flesh.

"You really think I'd let that happen?" he whispered.

"You don't fucking own me!" she spat. "And you don't even want me anymore! So fuck off, Mike, if I need dick every now and then and you won't even look at me, what do you expect to happen?"

"I—"

He looked stricken, her words causing some realization. It caused him to hesitate, to pause, and she ripped her hands free and threw herself up, flipping them over, so she was straddling him, letting the torn dress fall off of her so she was completely bare. Her hands shoved his shirt up, her hips rocking against him, desperate to get what she wanted. He needed to be naked. Now.

"I let him touch me because I knew it would piss you off," she admitted angrily. "Because it's the only way to get you to look at me anymore."

He was still shocked, staring up at her as she ripped his shirt off of him, her fingers unbuttoning his jeans. She was almost dripping onto him, and she could feel he was as hard as rock, her hand rubbing him through his pants. Mike groaned, grabbing her round cheeks and squeezing them hard, forcing herself onto him even harder and bucking up against her. He was pissed, but he needed to feel her, needed this just as much as she did, and he let go long enough to shove his jeans and underwear down his legs.

His cock sprang free and she smiled down at it, scooting back over him and then sitting on his thighs, so his aching member nestled cozily between her thighs. Her hand gripped him, pumping him lazily and making his hips jerk up, which she noticed with a grin.

"You're so busy and tired all the time," she raised an eyebrow. "But it seems like you still want me, huh?"

"Fuck, El," he groaned, realizing he was losing whatever battle their were having with their bodies. "Fuck, of course I want you."

The words made her shiver in relief, and then she was scooting down, her mouth wrapping around his dick as he let out a strangled groan. She felt a surge of pride, she was getting what she wanted, but she was still pissed. How many months had she layed around, afraid and nervous and unsure, missing his warm touch and hot mouth? And only now he was confessing how felt.

She pulled off of him rather suddenly, deciding she didn't want to give him that. He didn't deserve it. What she wanted was to get fucked so hard her legs shook and her body felt like jello and she wasn't about to suck his dick to convince him of that. She would take what she wanted.

And she would make him hurt, like she'd been hurting. Get him low and then kick once or twice for good measure. Maybe then he would understand what she had been feeling.

Crawling back up him, she straddled his hips and pressed her slick arousal against him, not letting him in yet but feeling his hardness, sliding back and forth and panting. It felt good, so good, and his hands found her hips, gripping tight enough to bruise and moving her faster. They gasped and groaned and his hands wandered up her body, tweaking her nipple and kneading the soft mounds, watching her eyebrows peak together.

For a moment they just felt each other, groaning and panting, their hips banging noisily as they rubbed and grinded. And then he ruined it by talking.

"Did you really wear that slutty outfit to piss me off?"

He asked between grunts and she looked down, surprised he was bothering to talk to her. She cocked an eyebrow, deciding it was a fair thing to admit.

"Did it work?"

"I liked it." He bucked up against her and they both let out matching gasps. "I liked it a lot."

"So did everyone else. Especially James."

She looked down, smirking, but felt her heart stop for a second as his face twisted into scowl and then suddenly he was flipping them again, crashing on top of her, one hand pinning her arm down and the other gripping her leg and pulling it up, rutting against her before pulling back.

"You really think he could do better, could fuck you better?" Mike snarled. "That he could be half as good as me?"

His teeth and tongue were everywhere, covering her neck and sternum, pinching her nipples and making her cry out. The rage, the jealousy, the dominance came roaring out of him like a lion and all she could do was gasp and shudder as he kissed and bit down her stomach to the aching throb between her legs. His hands shoved her hips down onto the bed, holding her down as she tried to shift away. Her knees were thrown over his shoulders and then his mouth met dripping pink folds and she cried out.

"Ah! Ahhhoh!"

He looked up, smug, pressing his tongue to her clit and moving it in circles. She hated it, hated how he looked at her, hated how much she missed him despite how he'd treated her, hated that he was _right_. She would never find anyone better, it wasn't possible. Instead of letting him gloat she grabbed a handful of his thick, dark hair and shoved his face further into her wet center, biting back another moan.

"H-He could be b-better," she gasped. "I've only ever had _you_."

It was true, she didn't know if there was something better out there than this. She'd never wondered before, more than content with his fingers and tongue and dick, never needing more. Even now, she didn't want anyone or anything else… but she was okay with letting him think so as long as it _hurt_.

He shoved his tongue into her aching channel in response, deep but not deep enough, earning a strangled whimper and the lifting of her hips. His hands shoved them down again, keeping her pressed firmly to the mattress as she twitched beneath his lips. A finger replaced his tongue and she jolted, trying not to give in to him but wanting to, a second and third finger making her eyes roll. It felt good, so fucking good, and she gasped, her hands ripping at his hair, her hips chasing his mouth as he pulled away.

His face was damp, nose and cheeks, and he licked his lips as she frowned at him, unsatisfied with what he'd started.

"If you want to cum, you're going to have beg," he said calmly.

Her face went red. "No. I'm not begging."

"You have before." He crawled back over her, catching her leg and pulling it up. "I know you like it. I know what you like, El. No one else does. I know what makes you moan, what makes you scream. What makes you cry and beg." His voice was a growl as he stared into her eyes. "I know what you want."

Anger filled her like a flash of lightning. He was wrong, he didn't know what she wanted. If he did, they wouldn't be here tearing each other into pieces in a mockery of love. He may know how to fuck her, but he didn't know a damn thing about what she _wanted_.

Her fingernails found purchase in his back and then she was ripping her hands down, watching as he grunted and flinched, his head thrown back in wordless howl.

"Ow, fuck!" he snarled, looking back down at her.

"You don't know me anymore," she challenged. "You don't know _anything_. You're a liar! All you do is lie!"

It was some kind of cruel dance, and he glared down at her, wincing at the marks on his back and the hate in her eyes. Whatever game they were playing, he wasn't backing down. Not when he was throbbing for her and she was dripping for him. They were going to finish this and he was determined to win.

"I know you, El," his lips were on her, then his teeth. "I know every inch of you. Don't pretend like I don't. You're mine. You've always been mine."

"No," she protested, not wanting to give in. "I-I'm not—"

"You're _mine_!"

It was growl and then his hips were on hers, his hands fumbling, and he was pushing into her, slowly, like he wanted her to feel every inch. His eyes were closed and he was groaning, like he'd forgotten how good she felt, pushing further and deeper until he was all the in, opening his eyes with a gasp. She was tighter than ever, clenching around him, pulling him even farther.

El's nails dug into his biceps and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out at how amazing it was, how good it felt to be filled again. She had missed it so much, had missed _him_ , and now he was finally giving her what she had been wanting. Her body reacted, fluttering and clenching as she tried to pretend like it didn't feel totally amazing.

"Fuck, El, you're mine." His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb finding its way into her mouth as she threw her head back. "Your hot, wet mouth when you suck my dick? That's fucking mine."

He pulled back and then slammed into her and she couldn't help it, she cried out, a high keening whimper, her head still thrown back. It was so easy to give in to his dominant words and she felt herself weakening as his head went down to her chest.

"Your pretty little tits? So perfect and delicious." His mouth licked and suckled, laving over her nipples and then blowing, making her shiver and tremble. "These are mine too. All mine."

"No, I—ah! Aahh!" She jolted as he pumped into her. "Fuh-fuck!"

His hips sped up their leisurely pace as he panted into her ear, reaching the spots inside of her that made her gasp, her feet shuffling against the mattress. It was too much, his words, his mouth on her neck and face, his hands on her hips holding her down. It was everything she'd been wanting and she bathed in the crude affection and attention, finally giving in to him.

"Ohhh fuck! Mike!" Her nails ripped into his shoulders and neck, leaving red trails on his pale skin as she cried out for him. "Mike!"

"That's it, El," he slowed and smirked. "That's it, say my name. Tell me whose dick you belong to. Whose dick fucking owns you." His breath was in her ear his hands squeezing her hips and moving her up and down against the bed as he slammed into her, over and over. "Your pussy is mine, El. No one else will ever touch you or get inside of you. I'm the only who gets to have you, fuck, I _need_ you."

"I-I—"

He didn't hold back, his hips a frantic blur pounding her into the mattress as he claimed every part of her, reminded her of who knew her body, of who had her first, of the only one who had ever been so close. Him. It was what made all of it so bittersweet, her first love, first everything, feeling the need to reclaim her as if he knew some part of him had already lost her.

Her fingers curled into her palms and her hand went up to grip the bed frame, needing to anchor herself down as the rammed himself in so deep he hit her cervix. It wasn't gentle in any way, her thighs and ass turning red from their skin slapping together, his fingers bruising her hips and thighs and arms as he used his grip to pull her down onto him harder, the bed hitting the wall over and over. There was no reprieve, no way to back out and he stared down at her body, watching her breasts bounce and her body heave with each punishing thrust.

"God, El, fuck, you're so perfect and beautiful, so fucking sexy," it was a growl, "no one else can have you, if anyone tries to touch you I—" His eyes were filled with a wild, primal fire, something deep inside of him taking over. "I-I would kill them, fuck, I would _kill_ for you!"

"Mike," she gasped, eyes flying wide.

"Mine, El, you're mine, I'm _never_ letting you go," he rasped. "Your body is mine, all of you is fucking _mine_."

It made her shiver and the anger that had been a low burn hardened into hatred again, his need to own her and control her pissing her the fuck off. Who did he think he was, ignoring her for months and then spewing all this bullshit like suddenly everything was going to be okay? She'd been desperate for him to touch her but now the hurt and anger she'd been ignoring came flooding out.

With help from her mind, she shoved him off, switching yet again as she climbed into his lap and sank back onto his throbbing cock, letting out low huff, her hands flat on his chest. He tried to move but she had him pinned, staring down at him as she began to move her hips, slowly, letting him fill her, the familiar stretch so goddamn miraculous.

"You don't get to claim me," anger made her voice shake. "You don't get to do that anymore."

She moved faster, her nails digging into his chest, her head falling back as she took what she'd been wanting, letting him thrust his hips lightly but keeping control. He had wanted her to beg and she been willing, willing to give him what he wanted to just get fucked. But not anymore.

The swirl of her hips turned into a slow grind that made her teeth clench and her eyes roll, everything feeling so right even though it was wrong. She bounced and gasped, forgetting how perfectly he fit inside of her, how amazingly thick he was, just enough to stretch without hurting. It had been so long since they'd been like this.

"El, c'mon, please." He was begging. "I-I got carried away. I'm sorry."

"Shut up."

"But I—"

"I said shut the fuck up!" she hissed.

It wasn't something she wanted to hear from him right now, the apology that she had deserved weeks ago. Right now all she wanted was to feel the throbbing ache that was reverberating from where they were joined, the fiery need that was building with each thrust and collision. He was grunting and she was panting and keening and their bodies slapped together as she rode him hard enough to bruise, her legs shaking and struggling to keep up.

Her concentration broke and then his hands were on her hips, helping to move her and keep the pace, his own hips jutting up into her.

It was so _intense_ and she cried out, feeling the pleasure shiver across her skin as she squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth hanging open.

"Ohhh, oh, _Mike_ ," she sobbed. "Fuck!"

Everything exploded, her vision, her hearing, her mind, and she felt him all the way inside, a familiar growl leaving his throat in the form of her name as he finished deep inside of her. Her muscles went slack, everything warm, and she collapsed on top of him, unable to keep herself upright.

Tears dripped from her eyes, a sob shaking her chest, but she wasn't sure why she was crying, too many emotions overwhelming her, her shoulders shaking.

There were gentle hands on her shoulders, soft, familiar kisses pressed to her hair and temples, the usual gratitude expressed much more carefully. He was always like that, if they were rough, needing to touch her and make her feel safe. For second, she let it happen, let herself rest against him, breathing in his scent, sweat and aftershave. It was safe and easy and what she had been wanting, for him to hold her and kiss her and tell her he loved her.

She could feel the mess they'd made dripping out of her, onto her thighs, the combined results of their pleasure. Normally she didn't mind but suddenly she felt disgusting and wrong.

What _was_ that? What had just happened?

Before, they had been passionate, dominant, loving, and sweet. But that had been… anger and hatred and hurt, and while she wanted to feel satisfied—she had got what she wanted after all—she just felt… used and dirty and disgusting. Why had she thought that sex would fix the distance and not make it worse?

Because it always had before. It was how they found their way back to each other through the years, when long distance made it hard or there were misunderstandings. She knew she could always kiss him and lose herself to his touch, trusting him to make her feel good and giving back the same. It was a connection, not just an action, one that had bonded them since their fumbling first time all those years ago.

Mike's hand brushed her hair tenderly, and she suddenly felt the urge to throw up.

Her hands shoved him off, sitting up and crawling across their bed, her feet hitting the floor as she stumbled to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a slam, the lock clicking. The toilet seat was up and her knees hit the floor as she emptied the alcohol she'd had at the party from her stomach in a violent retch.

There were tears in her eyes, not from throwing up, and she let out a broken sob as she heaved a second time. It was wrong. Everything was wrong and she didn't know what to do anymore.

Mike had been her whole world. Her life had started because of him, and she'd always assumed he had felt the same, but she was wrong. She had become a possession to him, a thing to own and conquer and claim. Their love had blackened and nothing she did could save it.

She couldn't save them.

"El?" There was knock and the handle jiggled. "Are you okay?"

"Go away!"

"El, I'm sorry, that was—"

"Go _away_ , Mike!"

She screamed at the door and then turned, reaching for the faucet and turning on the tub shower, as hot as it would go, drowning out his words. There was nothing he could say, they were broken and not even sex could fix it. She wanted to wash herself, get every trace of him off of her, and try and feel clean. To try and start over.

His fists pounded the door but she didn't let it move, unable to handle getting yelled at again, to hear that it was her fault and that she was stupid, as if she didn't already know. She crawled into the tub, her legs too shaky and sore to stand, sitting under the stream of scalding water and crying, hugging her knees to her chest, ignoring the faint sound of him calling her name, begging her to come out and talk to him.

Trembling, she shut her eyes, feeling the spray of hot water but shivering anyways.

They were broken and she couldn't fix it anymore.

* * *

 ** _AN:_**

 ** _Yeah, like I said. Depressing with more depression. I warned you._**

 ** _I still don't have an estimation on how many chapters. I originally thought six but I'm not sure yet. I haven't written far enough to see my ending, though I know how it ends. When I know I'll you all know._**

 ** _Thanks for the overwhelming amount of reviews. You guys are the light of my life. I literally checked first thing when I woke up this morning and couldn't believe it. All of your opinions are heard and your compliments make blush and yeah... I'm ridiculous. But thank you so much. It motivates me to update faster so I can see what you all think of the new chapters._**

 ** _See you tomorrow._**

 ** _~Wyn_**


	4. Chapter 4

**_AN:_**

 ** _Glad you liked last chapter._**

 ** _I'm gonna say this one more time: this story is depressing and angsty until it's not. I'm not trying to drag it out but I want this to be a real situation that is dealt with in the proper amount of time. It's not something that can be fixed all of the sudden, it's going to take a lot of effort and thinking on both Mike and El's part. It might be closer to ten chapters but I'm still figuring it out. Angst and more angst. Don't want it, don't read it._**

 ** _Also, to the brave anonymous who asked "Why are they out of character?"... it's because they're not twelve? Not sure if you were referring to the story so far as a whole or just the sex but either way, this is continuation of other stories (I mentioned this last chapter) so if you want to read those first it might clarify how I write them. Sorry that twenty-four year old Mike and El don't act like kids anymore. They kind of had to grow up. Also: It's fanfiction. I'm not secretly a Duffer brother, so I'm afraid nothing I write is actually canon. What a tragedy._**

 ** _Thanks for all the kind reviews. Hope you can keep hanging in there._**

* * *

The hot water ran out before she finally managed to drag herself from the tub, her skin red and raw, her legs still trembling. Her hands shook as she dried her hair and body, trying pretend like she hadn't just spent three hours crying in her bathroom.

Mike had finally given up, going quiet, and she wondered what she would tell him, what she would say. He'd stopped trying to understand and for the most part she didn't care. She had made her choice and nothing he could do would change her mind.

She was going home.

There was nothing left for her in the apartment, just cold loneliness and hurt. It was time to stop pretending like things were going to change, that he would suddenly walk in one day and scoop her up in his arms and whirl her around like he used to. His work was more important to him and some part of her supposed that was fair. How can you promise love to someone as a kid and not expect that adult reality would become more important? It wasn't fair to expect the promises they'd made as kids to matter anymore.

It wasn't fair to expect him to love her anymore.

When she opened the door to the bathroom the apartment was silent and she realized she was more relieved than anything. He'd run away again rather than dealing with her. What a surprise.

She walked into their bedroom, avoiding looking at the messy bedspread where they had just fucked each other raw. Thinking about it hurt, what she had done, what he had said, and instead of thinking she turned to the closet, pulling out her favorite dresses and shirts and folding them over her arm. The suitcase was in the closet hallway and she pulled it out, ignoring the shaking of her legs and the pang deep inside of her that still throbbed painfully.

It filled quickly, mostly clothes and her hairbrush and makeup. She didn't take any of the framed pictures of them that covered the walls and shelves, the ones of them at the Snow Ball, Prom, Graduation, Thanksgiving dinners, laughing and smiling. Those memories were the past and she didn't need to be reminded what she had lost. He could have it all, the furniture and dishes and towels. The things they had collected together over the years. She kept what was hers, shoving it into the suitcase before picking up the phone. Her hand was shaking.

It only rang twice.

"Hello?"

"Dad?" Her voice broke.

"Hey, kid, what's up?"

She was glad he had answered and not Joyce. The two had married a few years back after their kids left the house, finally settling down together officially. She loved her new mother, but she didn't want to answer worried questions and her dad never asked too much, usually able to understand from the tone of her voice. Cop instincts never die.

"I… I'm coming home. Tonight. Could you pick me up from the bus station?"

"Yeah, of course…" A pause. "Is Mike coming too?"

"No. Just me… is that okay?"

"Of course, kid. I haven't seen you in months. What time will you be getting in?"

"Around two. It's a late bus… um…" she bit her lip. "I'm going to cry a lot when I get there."

She knew it wasn't fair to tell him that and not explain why, but she wanted him to be ready.

"Did something… happen?"

"Yes. I-I can't stay here anymore. I'm done pretending, but I can't—" Her voice broke, the tears coming again. "Dad, I'm sorry, I can't right now."

"You get here as soon as you can, okay? We'll be waiting."

"Okay," she whispered.

"I love you, kid. You know that right?"

"Yes." Something surged up inside of her. "I love you too."

"See you soon."

"Bye."

She hung up and then called the bus station and ordered her ticket, so it would be waiting. It was a short walk from their apartment which was handy, since they visited Hawkins several times a year. Not they anymore. Just her now.

Everything felt slow, as if even time was trying to get her to stay longer. Something about Mike vanishing felt off—he would never leave her in that state—but she supposed it just proved that he really didn't care about her anymore. That she was his to own but not take care of. They had fucked but it had just proved how wrong they were for each other now, and he had left to soothe his wounded pride and shoulders.

There was still blood under her fingernails.

She put on a light jacket and a scarf and rolled the suitcase out into the living room, looking around to make sure there wasn't anything else that she wanted. All of it reminded her of him and she sighed and kept walking, to the door, and then paused.

Her hand traveled up to her throat, where the round pendant rested against her skin, the white gold warm. The gift from him all those years ago, to remind her that even when he sucked, he would remember his promises to her. Another lie.

Her fingers fisted around it and she pulled, yanking it right off her neck, holding it out in front of her, staring at the metal shining in the dim light. Every part of her was aching, wanting to cling to the hope that it was true, that he would walk in at any second and throw his arms around her and tell her he was sorry.

But that fantasy was over. It was time to grow up.

She opened her hand, letting the necklace fall, turning away before it hit the ground. The door opened and she pulled her suitcase out behind her, putting her hood up.

She didn't look back.

* * *

 ** _AN:_**

 ** _Real quick before you decide to hate El (or Mike)._** ** _This not a story where I want anyone to take sides. It's not about Mike vs El. They're both making mistakes that they need to talk about. It's about them having to learn how to overcome things together. That's the point of Mileven._**

 ** _Also, some of you forget El grew up in a goddamn lab where she was emotionally abused and gaslighted and treated generally terribly? She's better here but that kind of shit doesn't leave you. Keep that in mind._**

 _ **Idk I like to hear your guys's opinions, but I feel like it turns into a fight occasionally and that's not the point.**_

 _ **But whatever, do what you want. I'm not your mom and honestly in a way it makes me think. Sympathize with who you want and hate you who want because in the end I'm still gonna write it the way I was planning to. I just want to make you think too.**_

 _ **Love you all.**_

 _ **~Wyn**_


	5. Chapter 5

**_AN:_**

 ** _Ehhh, the last chapter was really short and made too many questions so I decided to post two to prove I do actually love you guys even when I chew you out in the author's notes lol. Sorry, I get a little defensive sometimes, but when it comes down to it, I probably need the critique. Heh heh... ugh._**

* * *

Mike knew he had fucked up.

Okay, well, she had too. Flirting with that guy? Letting him put his hands all over her? That had been so shitty and painful to see. It had hit him right where it hurt. She knew that he was insecure, that he got jealous. But he knew she did too and he definitely knew he'd been dick the past eight months, which he figured was a slightly worse offense… at least in the long run. It was what had started all of this, at least.

So here he was, at the nearest grocery store, shoving every flavor of Eggo into a basket while juggling the biggest bouquet of flowers he could find and a giant box of chocolates. The cashier at the checkout raised his eyebrows but said nothing at first. Mike wasn't the first guy to show up at almost midnight to buy flowers and chocolates for a pissed off girlfriend. The waffles were a bit of surprise.

"She that mad?" The cashier seemed amused.

"Yeah, uh…" Mike winced as the claw marks on his shoulders and back throbbed again. "I think it might be the best way to start the conversation."

"Good luck, man."

"Thanks."

The walk back to the apartment gave him plenty of time to think of what to say. He'd left her in the bathroom, hoping she would feel better after a shower and good cry. What they had done had been… kind of violent. Sure, he'd enjoyed it—it had been so long and she had felt amazing—but he knew it had been wrong. Or at least not what they had needed. It was time to apologize.

But where would he start?

"El," he mumbled to himself, ignoring the homeless guy he walked past that gave him a weird look. "I'm sorry I just totally fucked you." He winced. "No, shit. Don't start with that. Um… El, babe, I know I've been kind of out of it lately… like, working a lot. And sleeping. And not… paying attention to you very well, but, see, I've been trying to pay off this… thing."

He almost tripped on the sidewalk, catching himself and managing not to drop the flowers and bag of Eggos.

 _I was so close_ , he thought. _Another week maybe and I would have told her._

It was the secret he'd been keeping from her, the one that made him feel guilty when she looked at him with her huge eyes, knowing he couldn't tell her yet but wanting to. He hated lying to her, he _hated_ it. But he had to. It needed to stay a surprise.

That was part of why he'd been avoiding her so much. He couldn't tell her and he wanted to and it was easier to just not talk to her and resist the urge. But the bigger part of it was all of the extra time spent at work.

He liked his job. A lot. He liked that he knew what he was doing, fixing problems and helping people, doing something he was good at. His supervisor said he was the best tech they had on site, which was why he was requested so often. Then there was the extra hours spent in the call center, answering questions and coaching people through their technical difficulties. Those shifts were less fun. Most people ended up screaming at him because they were too stupid to understand basic instructions, taking out their frustrations on him as he tried to keep from feeling butthurt.

By the time he'd get home his eye would hurt from staring at screens and he was grouchy from people yelling at him. He just wanted to sit and eat something and watch TV, think about nothing for a bit to soothe his tired brain.

And she'd be waiting there, looking lonely and sad, making him feel worse. It was all for her, so why did she have to act like he was doing something bad? Looking at him with those huge eyes, pools of worry, wanting answers he couldn't give her. It just made him feel worse, irritated, and he didn't want to snap at her… so he just didn't talk to her.

He felt guilty too. So he had started pulling away when she reached for him, ignoring the way she bit her lip and looked him up and down as her eyes sparked with lust. He didn't deserve her attention and love, not when he was keeping secrets and lying and ignoring her.

Bottling it up seemed like the right thing to do. To just hold it in until he could tell her the truth and everything would be fine.

But then she would come at him, asking why he didn't call to tell her he was going to be late, frustration and hurt. Why he didn't want to go see a movie. Why he wouldn't even hold her hand anymore. It felt like nagging, his annoyance spilling over, and he would snap and push harder, ignoring her and crawling onto the couch, turning up the TV louder.

How could he have let it go so far? How could he have not seen this coming?

His back felt like he'd fought a bear, the scratches stinging and throbbing beneath his hoodie. Their light blue quilt on their bed had been dotted with rusty stains but he kind of felt like he'd deserved it in a way. He'd been way too rough this time. Usually she would assure him it was fine, that she liked when he was dominant, but this time she had flinched away from his gentle caresses, running to the bathroom. He had heard her throw up. The sound of her sobbing before the door shut.

He could still hear the sound of her crying in his ears.

Glancing up at the street sign, he sighed. It was a twenty minute walk to and from the grocery store to their apartment and he was only halfway there. His car had busted during college but the public transport had been enough and he'd been wanting to save up and buy another car so she didn't have to walk everywhere alone. Not that it mattered now.

Why had she dragged him to that stupid party? Dressed like some sort of hooker, hanging off of those two guys, dancing and acting wild, like someone he didn't know. The answer was obvious but he didn't want to think about because he knew it was his fault.

Why hadn't she just told him she felt neglected? Why did she have to take it that far?

He winced, readjusting the bag on his arm and switching the flowers to his other hand, not wanting to admit it to himself, scuffling his feet and sighing out loud. She had tried to talk him, admittedly not in the best way, he had pushed her doubts away and rolled his eyes, let her feel like she was crazy. It was all too obvious now why she had done it.

She'd been trying to get his attention the only way she knew how. Making him jealous.

But was it really necessary to let that douchebag _touch_ her? It had worked, he'd fucking punched the asshole and then fucked her _hard_. Too hard, but he wasn't going to regret that too much right now… she'd kind of deserved it a little bit for being so shitty. Or at least, she'd got what she expected. Despite how guilty and annoyed he'd been, she was still his girlfriend and he loved her.

He loved her, he really did. That was the whole point of working late and making money, getting the payments taken care of, keeping the secret. To show her how much he loved her.

 _You've been so great at that so far,_ he snorted.

Sure, he'd fucked up. He was realizing that now, that he needed to do better and take care of her like he used to. He needed to get the fuck over his feelings and act like grownass man and cuddle the beautiful woman he'd loved since he was a kid, kiss her and tell her she was wonderful, fuck her brains out when she smiled at him mischievously and make her dinner sometimes too. It was time to admit he'd been wrong and apologize. It was time to start over.

He suddenly realized he'd automatically walked into the apartment building, pressing the button on the elevator and stepping in. When it opened he peered around the flowers in his arms and nearly collided into James, the two men freezing and staring at each other. There was an awkward pause and Mike decided he could at least try and fix this mess too.

He cleared his throat. "Um, hey, sorry for you punching you in the face. That was kind of—" He frowned and paused, thinking about it. "Actually, no. If you ever touch my girlfriend again I'll fucking kill you."

James looked startled, reaching up to touch his jaw, nodding contemplatively. It wasn't cool to get up on other people's girlfriends and he knew that, shrugging.

"Fair enough. But if you ever try and punch me again, I'll throw you out of a fucking window," he drawled. "Actually, the roof. I'll throw you off the fucking roof."

They stared at each other for another second and then Mike nodded. There was no handshake of goodwill or half-assed apology but it seemed pretty obvious they had both crossed lines. It was easy to admit that.

"Alright. Cool."

"Cool."

James stepped into the elevator and Mike headed down the hall, putting all of that behind him. Right now he just wanted to focus on El, making her Eggos and cuddling her closely, apologizing and hoping she would be more forgiving then their douchey neighbor. He was hoping for an apology too—she'd been out of line tonight—but for the most part he just wanted to see her smile again. Not the fake smile she'd been sporting lately, but the one that reached her eyes and made her face light up. He'd missed that.

It took him a bit, finagling to get his key out while holding the flowers and food, but he finally managed to unlock the door and walk into the apartment. It was quiet and he set the bouquet on the table, going to the freezer to put the Eggos away before they thawed too much.

"El?" He turned, walking down the hall the bathroom. "Babe?"

It was empty, a circle of steam on the mirror, her wet towel hanging from the hook. He frowned, heading to the bedroom that was just as empty and quiet. The closet was open, and he turned and looked out into the hallway, noticing that closet was open as well. His heart sped up and he flicked the light on, staring at the empty spot where their suitcase usually was. That only meant one thing.

She had left.

He whipped open the dresser drawers, reality dawning on him as he saw the emptiness where her clothes were supposed to be. All of her girly stuff was gone too, and he ran back to the kitchen, desperately looking for a note or some kind of explanation. Things had been bad, he knew that, but they weren't so bad that she would just _leave_. Not without explaining why.

Right?

His eyes caught the glint of something on the floor and he frowned, stooping down to pick it up. The air was sucked out of his lungs as his trembling hand grasped the shining chain of the necklace he'd bought her all those years ago. The word engraved on it mocked him now and he felt tears fill his eyes. _Promise._

She'd left him. For real.

"No… no no." His hand gripped the metal pendant so hard it dug into his fist. "No, please, not this. Anything but this." He looked around wildly, like maybe she would appear in the hallway or walk through the front door. "El? El!"

His knees buckled and he fell to the ground, unable to comprehend it. They loved each other, they always had. There had been so many nights where they'd whispered to each other, promising forever, holding each other, foreheads touching. She was his sanity, his entire heart, and he felt his chest aching as it hit him that she was gone. Again.

He'd lost her _again_. She'd vanished into thin air, only this time there was no interdimensional creature screaming as it dragged her away. This time it was his fault, his stubbornness and pride keeping him from being honest with her, making him push her away.

This time _he_ was the monster.

* * *

 ** _AN:_**

 ** _It was time to get Mike's perspective out there. Tbh, there's a lot you guys don't know yet (except you, Frankie, I see you there) and he's a smart enough guy to know when he's wrong. El isn't off the hook but like... yeah. He kind of started it lol. Doesn't mean I'm inviting anyone to hate him or El. Still not a competition here._**

 ** _I'm working on getting to that happy ending. It'll happen. You just have to trust me._**

 ** _~Wyn_**


	6. Chapter 6

**_AN:_**

 ** _M'k ya'll have been super encouraging and I appreciate you. Like wow I did not expect the amount of kindness and support that you have poured out. Sometimes I get a little insecure... I guess I'm human._**

 _ **But I'm a grownass adult so to the anon I thoroughly reamed yesterday, I apologize. You're right, I was unnecessarily rude and I'm sorry. I think I do have the right to be defensive, but I also think I read your question more harshly than it was meant and that particular question gets under my skin because the only good answer I have is "Because I write them that way". Like it's just how I personally imagine their future relationship and how they're going to grow into adults. That's the only answer I have and I apologize for losing my shit.**_

 _ **Anyways, that being said, I'm done responding to negativity cause ya'll are right... it doesn't help lol.**_

 _ **Hope you like the story.**_

* * *

" _Dad_."

She fell into his arms, always so strong, and he held her tightly against him as the tears she'd been holding in the entire bus ride came flooding out. Her shoulders shook, sobbing into the front of the man who had taken care of her since he'd found her out in the woods so many years ago.

His hand rested against the back of her head, keeping her close, and she let out a high cry as she sobbed out the anger and hurt and pain, so relieved to no longer feel alone. The hurt from the months of silence, the guilt of her stunt at the party, the pain of their hate-filled coupling, the anger at Mike's sudden departure.

"I've got you, kid. You're alright. You're home."

The tears ran out and she snuggled against him, feeling warm and safe and loved, what her heart had been aching for for so long.

"Dad," she clung to him. "I-I shouldn't have left here. I should have stayed with you."

"Why? What happened?"

"H-He d-doesn't love me anymore," she whimpered. "And I made it worse and now I don't know what to do."

"Worse?"

She pressed her face against his shirt again, not wanting to answer. Admitting what she had done and what it had lead too was too embarrassing… not to her _dad_. It was too hard to explain and she couldn't, crying again instead as he sighed.

"C'mon, kid, let's get you home. Joyce stayed up, she'll make you some tea. Maybe you can talk to her?" he suggested, pulling her toward the familiar police SUV, helping her crawl in to the front and tossing her suitcase into the back.

She sniffled as they drove, staring out the window at the sleeping town. Hawkins. Her first real home, where she had found people who loved her and protected her. Where she had hidden and then risked her life to save. There was so much history here, the beginnings of who she was after the lab.

 _Their_ history.

The ice cream parlor they went to on their first date. The movie theater where they held hands (and did other things) in the dark. Their favorite park. Even the fucking roads were memories, of her hands around his waist as he pedaled them around the town.

Hopper passed Maple street and she caught sight of the house at the end of the cul-de-sac, it's blockish shape and uniform windows as familiar as her own face. Her very first home, a messy blanket fort hidden in the basement, still standing to this day. Where he had made her feel safe for the first time, with soft smiles and laughter, warm Eggos and gentle words.

How had it ended up like this?

The Byers house was now the Hopper house, and she wandered in, the overwhelming cigarette smoke and fresh cut wood smell greeting her nose like an old friend. She blinked in the warm light and then Joyce was there, holding her close, somehow smaller than El remembered.

She was safe and strong and El felt the usual tears well up, the crashing wave of relief that always filled her when her stepmother held her. The sobbing started again, this time without words, and Joyce squeezed her tightly.

"It's okay, sweetheart, you're home. You're okay, I've got you," she whispered. "Shhhh. Shh."

"I don't know what to do," El sobbed. "Everything sucks."

"Don't worry about that right now, sweetheart, come and sit down."

The older woman led her to the dining room table. The same one they'd gathered around all those years ago, when she'd failed to get into the Void. She still remember how scared she been, that she had failed, but instead of quiet, cold anger and disappointment, they'd been worried and asked how they could help. It'd been the beginning of realizing that not everything was as terrible as the lab and Papa.

There was mug of hot tea put into her hands and she took a sip, feeling suddenly exhausted. It had been a lot. The party, the alcohol, the sex, the crying, the leaving. She hadn't realized it was possible to feel so much sadness and pain. Not even when she'd hidden for a year, feeling her heart break every day.

"What happened, El? Was it… are you and Mike…?" Joyce stared at her, brown eyes warm and full of concern. "Did you two have a fight?"

"He doesn't love me anymore," she blurted.

Hop was standing in the hallway, head peaked around the corner, eyes wide and worried and Joyce made a shooing motion with her hand. She would fill him in later but she could already tell it wasn't something he needed to hear from his daughter.

"I'm sure that's not true, sweetie—" Joyce started to say.

El looked at her with dead eyes and she cut herself off.

"He hasn't… he started working all the time. Coming home late and not telling me. I thought maybe he just needed… space," she explained slowly, each word shattering onto the table. "But he just… stopped. Caring. Talking to me. Touching me. I tried—" Her voice broke again and she shook her head. "I tried. To talk a-and cuddle but he just… stopped."

It was the best way to describe it, the loneliness that had crept in quietly over the months. He would sleep and eat and stare at the TV, like it was too much to even try. Never explaining why, just existing and following the same routine. She still didn't know why he'd started taking so many shifts, they usually talked about that kind of thing, but he avoided talking to her, looking guilty and shrugging when she asked.

A terrible thought hit her.

"Was he… cheating on me?"

"Oh, honey, no, I don't think so," Joyce shook her head. "Mike wouldn't do that."

"But—"

"El, listen. I've know that boy since he was tiny. He's a lot of things, stubborn and hot tempered, but he's no cheater. He didn't even cheat on tests, Will used to tell me that. If he found someone else, he would have told you, he wouldn't have crept around behind your back." She rested her chin in her palm and sighed. "He's loyal, that one. Almost to a fault."

She had seen the way he'd been devoted her son, helping him and protecting him and sharing all the things Will never had. Whatever had happened between her stepdaughter and her boyfriend, she highly doubted it involved cheating.

El winced.

"He wouldn't tell me anything anymore… maybe he didn't want to tell me that either," she said sadly, looking into her mug. "I don't know. I don't know who he is anymore."

It sounded stupidly cliche but it was the truth. She didn't know who he was. Some work-obsessed asshole who avoided talking to her and stared at the TV instead. What had happened to the heart-eyed boy who had counted every day they were apart? Who promised her a future with no fear, the two of them together forever? Who brought her waffles and flowers and kisses and made her feel like the most special person in the world?

Why had he changed?

"When did it start?" Joyce asked kindly.

"Well…"

The story spilled, how at first he'd just taken an extra shift here or there, apologizing even though she said she didn't mind. Then it became extra shifts on weekends and later shifts during the week and he would come home looking exhausted all the time. She'd tried to help out, keeping his dinner warm or turning on his favorite show so he could put his feet up the second he got home. It had been fine for a while.

"So he just… stopped talking to you? Out of nowhere?"

"Um, well," she squinted. "I… got mad once. We fought. It got worse after that."

It had been after a few weeks of silence and instead of her usual quiet questions, she'd blown a fuse, asking him why he was always late and never called. He was defensive, saying that they could use the money and argued that she'd been fine with it before. But he'd looked guilty underneath the anger.

"I'm doing this for us, El, don't you get that?" He had said as he stared at her, his dark eyes wide and honest. "It'll all work out. I promise."

And then he'd drifted further and further away. The only thing that made sense was that he found someone else, but at the same time Joyce was right. Mike just wasn't a cheater.

He had a temper, she knew that. Stubborn too. But something else was missing, some piece of the puzzle she didn't know, and she was too tired to try and think about it.

"I don't know, Joyce. I'm just… tired. And he doesn't care."

The phone rang from the kitchen and she heard her dad shuffle out of the bedroom and answer it, both women ignoring it. Joyce rested her hands on her stepdaughters, letting out a heavy breath.

"Well, how about this. You stay with us tomorrow, it's Sunday, and you sleep as much as you want and rest and your dad will make you a nice big breakfast. We could go shopping maybe, or see a movie… there's that new romcom with Sandra Bullock I've been wanting to see," Joyce smiled coyly, eyebrows raised. "We can get dinner and just relax. You don't have to think about Mike or anything. You're always welcome to stay as long as you need."

El relaxed. That sounded amazing, honestly, just being with people who loved her. Who wanted to talk to her and be around her. She nodded, thinking that sleep was a good goal for tonight, especially since she would wake up to her dad's amazing breakfast.

Reaching up, she unwrapped the scarf she'd been wearing and set it on the table, forgetting why she had put it on in the first place. There was a gasp and she looked up at Joyce, who was staring at her in alarm, one hand outstretched. Her fingers brushed one of the red marks that smattered El's neck and chest, now obvious in the dim glow of the lamp.

"El, sweetie," her eyes were huge. "What… did he…?"

"We, um, tried to work things out… but it was just wrong. I thought it would help…" El shook her head, her hands covering the marks. "We just hurt each other more. He was bleeding too, it wasn't—"

"You two… fought?"

"We had sex." She admitted, face flushing. "But not… the right kind."

If it had been anyone else, she would have been too embarrassed. But Joyce had faced her own pain, she knew what it was like to love someone and hate them at the same time. She, more than anyone, understood what had happened. How the feelings could combine into one thing. She had two sons born from a relationship like that. It wasn't something that you could really explain.

"Oh, sweetie, oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry…" Her arms pulled her close again and El let the guilt and pain out again, the truth finally known. "It's okay, sometimes emotions come out in ways we don't want. Are you okay? Do you… need to see a doctor or something?"

"No. It's just my neck… I'm okay. I just want to sleep."

"We can do that. Come on, sweetheart, I made up the bed in Will's room," Joyce coaxed her, getting her to stand.

She led her down the hallway to the room, still covered in Ghostbuster posters and drawings. Her stepbrothers still had their rooms though both were off on their own, and she felt calmer as the older woman dug some pajamas out of her suitcase and helped her change, trying to ignore the bruises on El's hips and thighs. Soon enough she was tucked into the soft sheets, feeling safe and warm. Joyce kissed her on the forehead as if she was still a small child and not a grown woman, smoothing her curls away from her forehead in a gesture so motherly it made El sigh happily.

"Sleep, sweetie. We'll be here for you in the morning."

"Thank you," El whispered, feeling her heart swell in gratitude.

"Of course, El. You're my baby too."

The door shut and El rolled, staring up at the ceiling, chasing the shapes in the shadows. She felt better in some ways, less alone, and the smaller bed helped. But it didn't change the fact that she still, in some twisted way, missed him.

She _missed_ him.

So much that her heart ached and her eyes throbbed and everything felt wrong. It had been the thing she'd hidden beneath her hurt and anger. What had driven her to act so stupidly. What had made it hurt so much every time he rolled away at night or stared at her blankly when she tried get him to talk about his day.

Even if he didn't love her anymore… _she_ still loved _him_.

Her love for him had existed since that first week over ten years ago, when he'd handed her soft clothes, grabbed her hand as they ran, pressed an unexpected kiss to her lips. It was its own being, an existence so pure that it was impossible to doubt. It beat against her lungs now, telling her to go back to him, to beg for forgiveness and fall back into his arms.

She ignored it, rolling onto her side, closing her eyes and letting the exhaustion roll over her, the throb of the bruises and the ache between her legs reminding her why she was wrong.

For now she just wanted to forget, letting the darkness of sleep take her.

* * *

 ** _AN:_**

 ** _Life is going to get crazy for me again starting Wednesday. My goal is to get this finished before then. I've only got one or two more chapters to write. There won't be an epilogue, I don't think, but it really depends on the angle I write the ending and I don't have it set quite yet._**

 ** _If you want an epilogue then maybe? Lmao maybe I should finish the story first._**

 ** _I'm not sure what happened yesterday but my views skyrocketed and you guys left me a bunch of really amazing reviews that have had me yelling. I'll never know what I did to deserve so much kindness and support. I hope from now on I can be a little better._**

 ** _Also, if you have specific questions... DM me. Seriously. I can't respond to individual comments on here so if you have a question I'd rather you just ask me because I want to stop cluttering the author's notes. I don't bite (most of the time lol) but I'll admit I'm a little terrible at replying quickly._**

 ** _Thank you again._**

 ** _~Wyn_**


	7. Chapter 7

**_AN:_**

 ** _Sorry if the updates are showing up late. I've been away from my computer so I've been updating from the FF App and it takes like 15-20 minutes for it to hit online. I hate it, but it's the only option I have when I'm not home. Sorry._**

 ** _Sorry this has been going so slow. There's just a lot of emotions I want to take the time to build so the ending feels right. Not maybe to you guys, but to me. I have to entirely rebuild a twelve-year relationship in a few chapters. It's harder than it seems._**

* * *

El woke up to the sound of the phone ringing.

For a second she forgot where she was, blinking at the detailed drawing of four D&D characters that was pinned to the wall she was facing. Right. Still at her parent's place. In Will's room, safe and warm… and bored.

It was Thursday and she'd almost been there for a week. She had called in to sick to her job, saying she had a really bad stomach flu that she didn't want to spread, feeling bad about lying. Her boss was pretty nice and overall she liked working at the buzzing coffee shop, but she just needed a break.

For the most part she'd wandered around the house, making tea and watching TV and then hanging out with her dad or Joyce. He'd let her go to work with her one day, say hi to Flo and Powell and Callahan, the latter who exclaimed at how grownup she was. It was a nice change and she'd helped out a bit, filing some old paperwork for Flo but overall had been a bit weird since she was a twenty-four year old and not a small child that needed to be watched over all the time.

She could tell she was starting to wear out her welcome but she just _couldn't_ go back yet and her parents weren't going to make her.

The phone was still ringing out in the hall and with a grumble she got out of bed and shuffled down out of the room to answer it, figuring if it was important she could at least take a message for her dad. Be helpful or whatever.

Speaking of her dad, he'd been weirdly distant too. Like he still hugged her and hung out with her and stuff, but there was definitely something he wasn't telling her and when she'd asked he'd just shrugged.

"You can't know everything all the time, kid," he'd shrugged, sipping his coffee. "I'll tell you when you're ready."

Because _that_ wasn't cryptic at all. She'd lived alone with him long enough to know when he was just straight up lying. It was starting to piss her off a little bit but the only person more stubborn than her was her dad and she knew he wouldn't tell her anything until he decided to.

The phone rang _again._

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she mumbled, feeling annoyed before picking up the phone and putting it to her ear. "Hello?"

"El?"

Her heart stopped and she almost dropped the phone, feeling that strange tingly feeling in her head and shoulders that meant she was about to panic. She swallowed, not knowing what to say, immediately knowing the voice on the other end of the line. She managed to croak out a single word.

"Mike?"

"El, please, don't hang up, I know I fucked up but I—"

"Stop."

He did, his voice dying, and she took several deep breaths, trying to decide what would be her best option now. A big part of her _did_ want to hang up and keep ignoring him but…

She didn't know where they were at. Everything had been fucked up and wrong and the only choice seemed to run away… so she had. And she'd been thinking a lot, talking to Joyce and her dad and then thinking even more and trying to decide what to do about her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend? Fuck, that was another question that required her actually talking to him to get an answer. And she did want answers. What had happened? Why had he stopped caring about her? Was it something she had done? Did he still love her maybe a little bit or was it all as hopeless as it felt?

When it came down to it, she didn't _want_ to break up with Mike. He was safe. He was home. He was everything. But she was realizing that maybe that wasn't healthy. What had happened—the lack of communication, the arguing, the jealousy—hadn't been healthy and she was trying to decide how to explain that to him… if he even cared.

But based on the start of the phone call, it kind of sounded like he cared. And earlier that week her dad had mentioned…

"Kid."

She had looked up at him over the huge plate of french toast he'd made her for Sunday brunch, munching happily. His face was serious and she stopped chewing, brow furrowing in silent question.

"Hm?"

"He called last night. Mike." El had felt herself tense at her dad's words. "He wanted to know if you were here. That you were… safe."

"Okay," she'd replied dully, looking back down at her plate, angrily mashing her eggs down.

"I told him you were here and you were with us… just so he wouldn't lose his mind," Hopper crossed his arms. "I just thought you should know."

"I guess."

That had been it, he hadn't mentioned Mike again, knowing better than to make it worse. But him mentioning it had made her heart do a weird fluttery dance, half anxiety, half hope.

 _He cares that you're safe,_ she'd thought to herself, figuring the "losing his mind" part was just exaggeration on her dad's part. _I guess that's something though._

And now he was calling her, almost a week later. Awfully late for someone who supposedly cared about her. She wondered if her dad had told him to fuck off or something, if that was the reason why he'd been quiet. There had been more to that conversation between her dad and Mike—she would have bet on it—but she didn't want to think about Mike more than necessary and ignored it. If her dad was protective of her, fine. So be it.

But now? Now she just had no clue what to think.

"What do you want?" She finally asked, feeling defeated. "Why did you call?"

"I'm in Hawkins."

She tensed. "Why?"

"I… I want to talk to you, El. Please. I know that I haven't been very—" He paused and she could almost picture him licking his lips nervously. "I fucked up. Big time. But I don't… I don't want us to end like this, _please_. I need to talk to you."

"Why?" She didn't blink.

"Um…" He almost sounded confused. "So I can apologize? And I need to… be honest. I didn't tell you something because I thought it was the right thing to do. But that wasn't, it was stupid, and now I want to be honest with you."

 _He was cheating on me_ , she immediately thought. _He was seriously cheating._

It was the only thing that made sense. Suddenly working late, disinterested in her, being annoyed all the time. And now he was admitting that he had lied to her about something big, something that he thought was right but was wrong. That he had been hiding from her.

Every vein in her body turned to ice, her hand shaking and she felt tears suddenly spilling down her cheeks, freezing to her skin in painful streaks. Her heart shattered.

"El?" His voice sounded distant. "El, are you still there?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Her entire body trembled with rage but suddenly she snapped into clarity. Fine. He wanted to confess? It was about damn time. Why not. Why not talk to him and finally give him a piece of her mind. Why the fuck not.

"Sure," she blurted. "Where did you want to talk?"

"Oh, um," he sounded surprised, like he hadn't expected it to be that easy. "Well, I'm at my parent's house. Would you want to just… come over? Um, to the basement… not the front."

He didn't want his parents to see her before he dumped her. That made sense. Wouldn't want them thinking the past twelve years they'd been together meant anything. What a mistake that would be.

"When?"

"Uh…" He still seemed surprised. "Would tomorrow night be okay? Maybe like, six-ish?"

"Sure," she said dully. "Fine."

"Awesome."

There was definite tone of excitement in his voice and she had to wonder why he couldn't at least pretend to be morose about it. Them ending. Sure, in some way she'd kind of accepted it. She was the one who had left, after all, but some part of her knew that it wasn't what she wanted. Was it not fair to need some time alone to think after what had happened? To get away from that apartment with it's empty promises and cold sheets? To want to go where people were warm and just… think?

Apparently not.

"Okay, well, um, I'll see you tomorrow?" His tone was full of hope.

"Great."

"Alright… bye, El."

"Bye."

He hung up on his end and she stood there for a moment, listening to the dial tone, trying to process what had just happened.

He was in town. He wanted to talk to her. She was going over to his parent's house. Tomorrow.

Her brain fumbled for some kind of mild explanation as to how any of it made sense. Of course he'd known she was here, but why had he bothered to come all the way out to Hawkins? Did he want to break up with her here so she wouldn't be able to come back? She had already taken all of her stuff… it could be argued that she didn't need to go back to the apartment at all. That would be convenient for him, so his new girlfriend could move in as soon as possible.

She absentmindedly reached up to tug at her necklace, one of her thinking habits, and then flinched as her fingers met bare skin. Oh right. She'd thrown that out too. Along with every piece of him. Maybe she'd kind of asked for it, for him to be so thorough.

It didn't make it hurt any less.

Her hand hung the phone back up, the dial tone hurting her head, and she looked down the hallway, feet shuffling towards the front door. It was raining, she could hear the soft patter on the roof, and she was reaching for the doorknob, opening the door and stepping onto the wide porch, the wood creaking.

The sky was gray, a distant rumble of thunder greeting her, the spring breeze warm on her face. She was still in her pajamas but she reached out, walking towards the edge of the porch, feeling the wet drops on her fingertips and palms. Her bare feet met the grass and then she was standing in the middle of the yard, face turned up to the sky, eyes closed. The rain caressed her face, running down her cheeks like tears, soaking her hair to her head and dripping onto the ground.

A sob shook her chest and she let it out, let it all wash away. Her tears mixed with the rain and she took a heavy, shaky breath, letting the oxygen in, trying to find some sort of calm. It took a few minutes and by the time she opened her eyes, her clothes were soaked and her mouth tasted like rainwater.

Whatever happened tomorrow, she was going to be okay with it. Because that's what you did when someone hurt you. You learned from it and kept going. She wasn't going to let this fester into a wound, like the one Papa had given her. The one that had almost destroyed her. If Mike had decided he wanted to be with someone else… then she would learn how to be alone. Stop being the girl who waited for someone who no longer wanted her. Start becoming someone else, someone she could trust with her own heart.

No more broken promises.

* * *

 ** _AN:_**

 ** _Should I double update? Maybe I should double update. Maybe that would be a nice thing to do... maybe you could convince me to do that. ;)_**

 ** _~Wyn_**


	8. Chapter 8

It had taken her three hours to pick an outfit.

To be fair, she didn't really know what one would wear to go and get dumped. Should she dress nice, or would that seem desperate? But she didn't want to look like a slob… or give it away that she'd already cried. What said "I'm here and I'm listening but also I don't give a fuck about you anymore"?

In the end she'd settled on one of her favorite dresses, pink with a peter pan collar. It was an echo of the one she'd worn that first week, Nancy's castoff, and she felt comfortable in it. Maybe he would remember that week, maybe he would feel bad about what he was about to do.

With a heavy sigh she walked out of Will's room, towards the kitchen, where she figured Joyce would be. Hopper was still at work but her stepmom didn't mind lending her the car.

"Joyce? Can I borrow your keys?"

Joyce looked up from the magazine she was reading. "Oh, sure. Where are you going?"

For a second she considered lying, but quickly shook herself out of it. Joyce didn't deserve that, not after she'd been so kind.

"The Wheelers'. Mike is there. We're going to… talk," she confessed. "I might come back crying. I don't know."

The older women looked stunned, setting her magazine down on the table and nodding contemplatively. She got up and walked to her purse, digging her keys out of her purse and then handing them to El.

"Do you need anything else?" she asked.

"No." El shook her head. "I just… want to get it over with."

"Are you going to end it?"

"I think so. I think that's what he wants," El said simply. "It's probably best… I can't keep living how we were and I don't think he wants to change. I hope it's okay if I move back in for a bit."

"Of course, sweetheart." Joyce's hands cupped her cheeks gently. "I told you, you're welcome to stay as long as you need. Even if that's a for the rest of your life. This is your home too, El. Whatever happens, you can always come back here."

El felt tears well up and then she was hugging the small woman, feeling gratitude pour out of every fiber of her. How did she get so lucky? A second chance at having a real dad, and now a real mom? Despite everything that lab had tried to take from her, it had failed. She had a family now, a real one.

"Thank you," she whispered, feeling a rush of gratitude.

"You don't need to thank me. That's what family does."

After a few more minutes of hugging, El pulled back and wiped her eyes, feeling a little bit silly but better than before. She only wished her dad was here too… a good luck hug from him always made her feel better. Oh well.

Sniffling again, she held up the keys and nodded before turning steeling herself and turning to go. It was six and he'd said six-ish and she supposed being late would be rude. It would be better to get it over with as soon as possible and then come back and cry and cry and cry… and then try and get over it.

She knew the way without thinking about it, driving down the familiar roads to the cul-de-sac, parking and staring at the house for a solid five minutes before getting out. It didn't feel unusual to go around the back instead of the front, but she still felt like some sort of gross secret that wasn't allowed through the front. Whatever. It didn't matter.

Standing in front of the door to the basement she took a deep breath.

She was ready.

* * *

Mike wasn't ready.

He looked around the basement, checking his watch again, and then adjusted his clothing. His heart was pounding so he went and sat down on the couch, shuffling a bit before standing up again, going over and flicking the lights on, then off, then on, then back off. Definitely off.

The strings of lights he'd put up made everything softer, which had kind of been the point. They were just white, not multi-colored, and it had taken him three hours to get them up and rig enough extension cords. The basement had basically stayed the same since he'd moved out. Same unfinished concrete floor, same old wooden-armed couch, same shelves of old games. The only thing they'd modified over the years was getting a bigger, sturdier DD table and actual chairs instead of an odd collection of stools and camp chairs.

Right now it was covered with a red and white checkered tablecloth, two plates, some candles, and a toaster. So he could toast the Eggos fresh… that was thoughtful, right?

He just wanted to make her happy… or something close to happy. After all the shit and the lying and the crying, he just wanted to make her smile again. So of course he was going to apologize and be honest, but he figured a little extra effort wouldn't hurt.

His hand snuck into his pocket for the millionth time and his fingers wrapped around the small box inside, pulling it out. He flipped it open, staring down at the cause of everything and then sighing heavily.

 _So much trouble for such a little thing._

The flawless diamond sparkled in the dim light, the white gold band shiny. An engagement ring with a tiny pink sapphire accent—her favorite color—and a custom engraving on the inside. To match the necklace. It all but screamed her name.

It was the fucking secret he'd let ruin them, split them in half because he was too busy thinking about the future to see what was in front of him. Because when it came down to it, he loved her. More than anything. And he wanted to marry her. He wanted that forever he'd imagined with her so many times, that unbreakable promise that would keep them together no matter what.

Instead, he'd driven her away, stupidly deciding the piece of metal and gems would be worth more to her in the end than his attention. As if she'd fallen in love with a ring and not him.

Maybe it was a cruel irony, some cosmic joke, that the very thing that was supposed to help tie two people together had been the cause of their split.

Okay, well, it wasn't the ring. It was him and he knew it. He'd let his fantastic idea of the future shine brighter than his present with her, wasting months with her while imagining just how great everything would be. He'd let the exhaustion win. The annoyance, the irritation, the guilt. He could have been honest, told her he was trying to afford something, but she was so damn smart he was just sure she would figure it out. She was raised by a cop after all.

The thought of the Chief made him sweat even more. If he somehow managed to hurt her again, he was sure Hopper would show up with his shotgun and put him out of his misery.

That had been the phone call that had started the whole idea, actually. After realizing she was really gone and not coming back, he'd started calling places, trying to figure out where she was. If she was safe. If she was alright. When Hopper had answered, he'd almost yelled.

"Hello?"

"Hopper?! I mean, Chief, sir?!"

"Wheeler?"

"Is El there? She left and she didn't leave a note and I can't find her and she took the suitcase—" He was babbling, almost incoherent.

"She's here." Hopper interrupted. "I picked her up from the bus station about a half an hour ago."

Mike had sagged against the counter in the kitchen where he'd been pacing, feeling like he could throw up he was so relieved. She was with her dad. The safest place in the goddamn world.

"Oh thank fucking Christ, I was losing my mind, she left her necklace and—"

"Wheeler. Shut up." It had been a command and he did so. "What the _hell_ did you do?"

Hopper's tone had been ice, but the kind of ice that's so cold it burns your skin. Just remembering made Mike shiver in fear. He had flinched and tried to think of a way to explain.

"I… made a mistake. Um, a few actually. I'm going to buy a ticket to come and—"

"No."

He'd been confused. "What?"

"No. Absolutely not." Hopper's voice was like cold steel. "If I see you anywhere within a mile of this house I will shoot you on sight, do you understand me?"

"Um—"

"No, not 'Um'. I need a 'Yes sir'."

"Y-Yes, sir." He had swallowed, almost too afraid to ask. "But… why?"

"Because I haven't seen her cry this hard since that week she closed the goddamn gate. Whatever you did, you have a lot of nerve to think I'd let you just waltz in here and hurt her even more. Hasn't she had enough shit in her life without you making it worse."

"But I—"

"No buts, Wheeler. I'm serious."

"So am I!" He exploded. "I fucked up, okay?! I know I did. And I want to apologize and try and fix it because I love her, sir. I've always loved her… everything I do is for her but I fucked up a lot and I can't…" His voice broke. "I have to try. I can't let her just leave. Not after everything we've been through. I love her."

"Then why does she think you don't?"

Mike had sat there for a minute, unsure if he wanted to confess. But he needed to tell _someone_ , to try and find out if he even should apologize. If it was possible to save them or if he'd gone too far.

He swallowed and then sighed, figuring he had nothing left to lose.

"Sir, have you ever worked late?"

"Sure."

"And you get home and you're tired because people have been talking to you all day and you've been working and thinking and all you want to do is sit on the couch and drink a beer and think about nothing? Not even your, um, awesome wife?"

"Well…" Hop had sounded mildly intrigued. "Yeah, sure, I guess so."

"Have you ever done that every day for eight months?"

A snort. "Hell no."

The story spilled, how he'd tried to not to be a dick but failed, how she'd exploded and made it harder, how he'd slowly gone numb and iced her out, convinced it would all get better soon. He left out sex thing, but mentioned how they'd gone to a party and a guy had flirted with her and that they'd fought afterwards. Her dad _definitely_ didn't need to know that Mike had pounded his daughter raw. Hell no. But everything else was fair game. Sort of.

He kept mentioning "it". That he'd been working to pay "it" off. But he didn't say outright what "it" was.

"...almost finished paying it off. I'm only two hundred bucks short but that's another week of overtime, at least, and I wanted to keep it a sur—"

"Finished paying _what_ off?" Hopper finally snapped.

"A ring, sir. For her. I, um… I was going to ask her to marry me."

It had been silent and everything suddenly made sense to Hopper, his fatherly rage calming a bit as his working side found a sympathetic angle. He had been tired before. He knew the feeling Mike was describing, being bone-tired. There was a time he'd been a dying relationship, letting it fade away instead of trying. Only now Mike was trying… he had realized his mistake, something bigger men didn't always do.

Somehow it made sense even though he still didn't like how much El had been crying. How much he had hurt her. But he was buying her a damn _ring_. And by the sounds of it, not a cheap one either.

"You said you were how much short?"

"A little over two hundred but I'm—" He had cut himself off, frowning. "Why?"

"You get one chance to make this right, Wheeler. I'm going to help you out just this once and if she chooses what you want, then fine. If not, you're out of here. Forever."

That was where the plan had started. Hopper had wired him the last bit of money, citing he could pay him back later on. The condition had been that he would would have to wait at least three days before showing up in Hawkins. Her father had wanted her to have time to think, to really consider her options and what she wanted before Mike came running in with a shiny ring and big fat apology.

But he too had known his daughter deserved an apology. And he wanted her to have that.

So now Mike was waiting, glancing at the door every few seconds and trying to think of what exactly he was going to say. Where to start, how to explain. She was smart, a deep thinker, and he wasn't afraid that she wouldn't understand him, she always had. It was one of the things he'd loved about her from the start, how she could take in a scrape and an embarrassed frown and know what he was thinking. Sure, she was telekinetic, but sometimes he thought her real superpower was how well she read him. It wasn't a question of whether or not she would understand why he was apologizing.

He was afraid that it was too late. That she had already decided that he had messed up too much. That she wouldn't think he was worthy of forgiveness this time. That she didn't love him anymore.

But… he was ready if that was the case. It was what he deserved, honestly, and he was ready to face whatever would come. To do whatever he needed to make her happy again… even if that meant taking the bus back to Indy and never seeing her again. He hoped that wasn't the choice she made.

 _Knock knock knock_

Mike's heart jumped at the sound and whipped around, seeing the shadow on the curtain and knowing who was on the other side. Swallowing his fear he walked towards the door.

Time to find out.

 ** _AN:_**

 ** _There's no way for me to put break lines in on mobile and I'm not going to be near my laptop for another seven or eight hours so sorry if the formatting sucks. I'll try and fix it when I get home._**

 ** _Ya'll convinced me today, but you're going to have to wait until tomorrow for the next chapter because I need to finish writing it. Smut ahoy!_**

 ** _~Wyn_**


	9. Chapter 9

**_AN:_**

 ** _Sorry to leave you all hanging for so long. I needed to edit and edit and re-edit and I didn't have as much time as I was hoping for. It wasn't intentional, I promise, I was just trying to make sure that this was up to my standards and wouldn't disappoint._**

 ** _I hope you like it._**

* * *

El didn't know what exactly she'd been expecting when the door opened, but it certainly hadn't been _this_.

Mike was standing in the doorway, looking nervous, but it had been the glow of the lights behind him that had caught her eye. The dreary basement looked almost magical, strings and strings of warm Christmas lights criss-crossed the ceiling, and in the middle of the room the D&D table had been covered with a tablecloth, like in Lady and the Tramp. She remembered watching that movie with Holly years ago and had always maintained a fondness for the scene with the spaghetti.

But what was all of this?

"Um, hi, El," he stammered nervously. "Do you want to come in?"

Her eyes focused back in on his face instead of the room over his shoulder and she felt her stomach drop. There were bags under his eyes and nicks on chin, like he'd cut himself shaving, his hair dull and greasy. He looked as terrible as she felt and she felt a pang of self-loathing as she squashed the urge to reach out and trace his freckles, that little heart on his cheekbone she'd found years ago.

 _He's about to dump you, stop being stupid_ , she chided herself.

The anger surged up again as she glanced back at the room. What the fuck was this? He'd went all out just to break her heart? What was his fucking problem? Couldn't he _pretend_ to be sad?

"Sure," she spat, scowling. "Thanks."

She pushed past him roughly, noticing the way his hand brushed hers and hating that it made her shiver all over. God, she didn't want to let herself get emotional and give in to him, but it was hard. This was hard. Crossing her arms, she turned to face him, hunched and uncomfortable, standing in the middle of the decorated basement and wishing it was already over. She couldn't make herself meet his eyes.

"Did you want some Eggos? Or water? I, uh, set up a toaster." He gestured to the table, trying to look optimistic but obviously worried about her sour demeanor. "If you want. I thought it would be nice."

"Nice?"

"Yeah, uh… I-I mean—"

"Can you cut the bullshit and just… do it?!" She felt a surge of rage at whatever charade he was trying to get her to buy. "Just… tell me whatever it is you wanted to say. I don't want Eggos or any of this. Just… just say it.."

He looked surprised and almost a little hurt but shrugged, figuring that was fair. Time to do it, to spill his heart to her and confess his undying love and just how repetent he was for his—

"I'm sorry," he blurted, forgetting all of the prettier words he'd planned. "Uh, I mean, I'm sorry, but also… I'm really sorry, El. I've been really shitty for a long time and I didn't tell you why or explain and I have my reasons but—"

"What's her name?" She cut him off.

He looked thrown by the question. "Huh?"

"What's her name, Mike?"

"Who, the jeweler?" His brow furrowed and then suddenly _she_ was confused.

"What?"

"What?" He flushed and then looked equally confused. "What are you talking about? What is whose name?"

"The… the girl! Whoever you've been seeing?! The reason you're breaking up with me right now," she exclaimed angrily, annoyed at how he was trying to play innocent. "When did you decide she was…" She inhaled. "When did you decide that you didn't love me anymore?"

Mike's eyes went huge and he stared, dumbstruck, like she'd just slapped him in the face. Then he held his hands up, shaking his head in disbelief, not wanting to believe what he'd just heard her say. There was no way she thought...

"Wait, wait, wait… you think I'm _cheating_ on you?" His eyes were wounded, voice breaking at the end. "That I don't _love_ you?"

She shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, wondering why he was looking at her like she'd just admitted to murdering the entire cast of Star Wars or something. Of course he was cheating on her. Of course he didn't love her. Why else would they be here?

"You stopped talking to me, Mike." Her head shook imperceptibly. "For _months_. You worked late and didn't tell me why. You didn't want to touch me anymore… or look at me. You were guilty and sad and upset. Now you want to tell me your big secret," she shook her head. "What else could it be?"

"I would _never_ cheat on you. Jesus…" The hurt sparked into anger. "Weren't you the one throwing yourself at other men a few days ago? Telling me you would have let them fuck you just to piss me off? Letting them put their hands all over you?"

Fair point.

"What else was I supposed to _do_?!" She exploded, going on the defense. "You would come home and avoid me and I felt like…" Her breath hiccuped in her throat as she confessed what she had been trying to suppress, a memory of fear from her past. "I felt like I was little again, waiting for Papa to come. Sometimes he would be mad or upset and those days made me want to just _die_ and I felt like that again. Because you were always mad or upset or didn't want to look at me. But I never knew what I did wrong."

Mike looked stricken, like that thought hadn't occurred to him. But it made sense. Brenner had done the same thing he had. Ignored her until he needed her, made her feel small and insignificant but needy all the same. Only this was worse in some ways because Mike actually loved her… and he'd let her feel _used_.

"You never did anything wrong," he protested. "That's what I'm trying to tell you, that I was—"

"I did. I did do something wrong."

She had made herself shrink smaller somehow, looking weary and ashamed. He was right… how was she going to accuse him of cheating when she'd all but done that earlier? The guilt of her actions that night flooded her and she took a heavy breath, nodding, admitting her wrongdoing.

"You're right, Mike. I shouldn't have done that… at the party," she bit her lip, nodding harder. "I'm sorry. It wasn't okay. I didn't mean it… what I said that night. I thought it was the only way to make you pay attention to me… but it wasn't okay. I'm sorry."

Something in her sighed happily as she admitted her fault, one of the things that had been eating her slowly inside. She'd replayed that night over a million times in her head and every time it had made her feel more and more ashamed. It had been a low blow but she had been hurting and not in the right state of mind.

"I'm sorry too." He said quietly. "I'm sorry I made you feel like that was the only option. I'm sorry I made you feel like you were back at the lab again… that I reminded you of _him_." A sob bubbled into his throat and he swallowed it, not ready to cry until he had given her the apology she deserved. "I'm sorry, El. I'm so sorry."

Her head snapped back up, eyes narrowed as she realized what he'd said earlier, the apology meaning little because in truth, she'd done something just as bad. Preying on his insecurities and using them against him. She'd let herself become Papa too, but now she was pushing past it, wanting to focus on what was in front of her, needing an answer to her fear.

"So… you're not… with someone else?" She could barely breathe.

" _Never_. I wouldn't do that to you…"

He took a deep breath, stepping closer to her, his hands twitching to hold her, his eyes huge and wet and honest. She didn't back away, staring up at him, like a deer caught in the headlights, everything she'd thought and assumed about him suddenly dissipating like vapor in a breeze.

"I love you, El. I love you more than anything in this entire shitty world. " His voice was softer, his brows furrowed like he was in pain. "I would… I would throw myself off of the roof of our fucking building before I would ever _cheat_ on you. There's no one else I could want more than you. It's only you…"

His eyes were wet, pleading silently for her to believe him, his voice soft as he breathed out the truth that lived in his very soul.

"It's _always_ been you, El. I thought you knew that."

The rage faded and she leaned against the table, suddenly unsure. If he wasn't cheating then what the fuck was going on? There was no mistaking the hurt and honesty in his eyes as he said those words and it felt like the world she'd built was crumbling.

"Then what… why did you do that? What did I _do_ , Mike?" Her own voice filled with tears, frustration replacing the anger. "What did I do? Why did you just… stop wanting me?"

"I've never stopped. Ever…." He sighed. "I just… I forgot how much you meant to me. I was so excited about the future that I got stupid and lazy and I hurt you. I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'm so sorry for letting you think I didn't love you."

"The future?" She was still caught on the word, unsure of what he meant.

He deflated and she lost it and almost laughed at him. His limbs were so long that when he slouched he always looked like one of those dancing inflatable tube guys they had at strip smalls. It was one of the things she'd always loved about him. She bit back a smile and tried to focus back on their serious conversation, ignoring the warm glow just seeing him be himself put in her heart.

"Yeah… that's why I was working so much. I wasn't trying to ignore you or avoid you by working, I was…" he licked his lips nervously. "I was working to pay off something that I bought. Something that I bought for you."

She opened her mouth to ask the obvious question but he didn't let her, quickly stumbling into the rest of his apology.

"So I worked and I was tired all the time, El, I was tired and cranky and I took it out on you instead of being honest. I would get annoyed when you would ask me why because… I mean, I was doing it all for you!" He smiled fakely and then winced. "But there wasn't any way for you to know that. Any of it. Because I wouldn't let myself tell you. I felt guilty because I felt like I was doing all of it for you but I couldn't tell you. So I stopped looking at you," he admitted. "Because it made me feel better about lying but that wasn't your fault either. So I'm sorry, for not talking to you or appreciating you or holding you when you needed me to. For not touching you." His jaw clenched and unclenched. "God, I wanted to… I missed you. All of you. And I'm sorry for that too."

El reached up to tug her missing necklace again, gazing at him and feeling very confused, wanting to accept his apology but needing to know why still.

"But what did you—" She tried to ask again but he still wasn't done.

"And then you did what… I guess what anyone would do. You tried to get my attention." He swallowed thickly. "And that sucked, I'll admit it. Seeing that guy with his hands all over you? After I'd been working so hard? It pissed me the fuck off, El. You knew it would. You knew you would get a reaction."

"I'm sorry, Mike." Tears flooded her eyes, the apology more solid this time. "I'm sorry. I didn't want him to touch me, I wanted it to be you. I didn't want him… I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry for being so rough," he countered. "I was… it was too much. I shouldn't have said all those things, about you being mine. That made you feel like I just wanted to own you, I know, but I so fucking pissed and I just…" he sighed. "I lost control. I'm sorry."

She nodded, considering his words. It had been the wrong thing to do in that situation, she supposed, but when it came down to it…

"You weren't too rough," she admitted. "I liked it, honestly. I don't think it's ever been that hard before but it _felt_ really good. We just shouldn't have been mad."

"Wait, you…" He felt his face heating up. "You liked it?"

"Yes. If I hadn't been mad I would have liked it more… when you say stuff like that, about me being yours… I like it." She shifted, like she was hesitant, but then asked anyways. "Did you mean it? About… killing for me?"

He had been staring at her, mouth hanging open in shock, but at that question his jaw snapped shut and he looked away, a bit nervous. That was a loaded question but he decided to just be honest.

"I meant what I said… even though some of it was kind of… gross," he winced but nodded. "But, I mean, yeah, I think so. You kept telling me you were going to go fuck some other guy and all I could imagine was beating in James's head with a spiked bat. But any time people try to hurt you… I feel the same. Like that guy that grabbed you on the bus that one time?" His eyes flared.

She'd come home one day looking disturbed and he'd coaxed her into telling him how a man on the bus had sat next to her and tried to feel her up and pull her into his lap. Of course she'd broken three of his fingers before anything could really happen, but it had shaken her up and Mike had been so mad he'd punched a cabinet.

"I know you can protect yourself better than I can protect you… but I would fight for you, El. I would kill anyone who tried to take you away. I would kill Brenner for what he did to you. I…" He ran a hand through his hair, wondering if it was terrible to admit. "I thought you knew that. You've killed for me. To protect me. I would do the same for you."

She stared at him, speechless. He'd never told her that before, and maybe it was one of those things that should make her afraid but instead she felt her face get hot and her heart flutter. She had thought maybe he was just saying things in the heat of the moment, but it made sense in some way.

She loved him. She had killed to keep him safe. He loved her. He would do the same.

He _loved_ her.

The doubt and fear and hurt fell away and her heart swelled. He loved her, he'd never stopped loving her, but he had made mistakes. She had made mistakes too, just as bad, and suddenly everything seemed so _stupid_. Irrelevant almost. Because he still loved her.

"Mike, I—"

"It's okay, you don't have to forgive me if you don't want," he cut in quickly. "I just wanted to be honest with you. About why I was acting like that… I didn't want you to think it was your fault because it wasn't. It was mine.

Suddenly he looked infinitely nervous, like he was terrified of something, and his hand slid into his pocket.

"So, um, this is me being honest." He pulled out the little box. "I was working all those extra shifts so I pay this off. It wasn't… I mean, I wanted it to be perfect so it took a lot of time to pay off. I'm sorry."

"What—"

He held it out and flipped the lid open, the lights above them sparkling off the modest diamond inside, a sizable chunk, and it's tiny pink accent. With awkward hands he held it out to her, clearing his throat awkwardly, clearly worried about what she would think. Was it too much? Was the whole idea dumb? Would she hate it or think it was ugly?

"It's for you, El. To match…" Out of his other pocket came the necklace, the one she'd dropped onto the ground in a fit of tears. "It says it on the inside. Of the ring, I mean. Y'know… promise. Since marriage is like a giant promise, I thought it would be…" He broke out in a sweat. "Cute?"

There were no words, no coherent thoughts able to enter El's mind. She stared at the ring, knowing what it was, what it meant. It was beautiful, perfect even, and with hands that were shaking as much as his, she reached out and took both pieces of jewelry, staring numbly, unable to comprehend it.

He'd been working to buy her this ring. So he could ask her to marry him. Because he loved her and wanted to marry her. Because he was Mike and he was the man who had loved her as a twelve year-old boy and had never stopped.

"You…" She was grasping for words. "This is… for me?"

"Yeah, I mean… I want you to have it." He looked heartbroken and hopeful and honest all at once, his brows peaked. "I know… I know you might not want to be with me anymore. You left because you _couldn't_ be with me anymore. I know that. But whatever happens now… I mean, even if you don't want to forgive me, I want you to have it. I got it for you. It's always been yours."

"Mike…" Her voice was a whisper.

"I just don't want you to think I'm trying to bribe you to come home with me. I want you to—"

The box snapped shut, both pieces of jewelry dropping to the floor. Her empty hands reached as she closed the space between them, arms wrapping around his neck. She pulled him to her, hands on the back of his neck, her head tilting as she looked him in the eyes.

Their lips met and she closed her eyes, the familiar feeling of warmth and comfort flooding through her, like sinking into a hot bath or being wrapped in warm blankets. She felt him jolt in surprise and then his hands were on her waist, pulling her close, like he needed her to be as close as humanly possible. His lips moved against hers, saying without words how sorry he was, over and over as she pulled him closer and silently told her she forgave him.

They broke apart with a gasp, their need for air the only thing able to make them part.

Mike stared down at her with shock and disbelief etching his features, unable to understand what had just happened. She glowed up at him, so full of love it spilled out of her in silvery streams of tears down her face.

"I don't care about a ring, Mike. I only ever wanted you," she beamed. "I _love_ you, Mike. I never stopped loving you either. Not even when… when I thought the worst." Her arms reeled him in further, their faces almost touching. "I love you and I'm sorry."

"No, _I'm_ sorry, I—"

"Shhh," she shook her head. "Just love me, Mike. That's all I've ever wanted from you. Not a necklace or a ring or car… I just want _you_."

They were kissing again, fiercely, and her hand pushed his shirt up, feeling the faint ridges of muscles on his stomach, feeling him groan against her mouth as she let her hands explore what she'd been missing, and it only took a few seconds for him to the do the same. This was what she had wanted… not anger, but love. Love everywhere, in every pore and breath.

"Mike," she whispered. "I want you touch me. _Please_. I-I need you too."

He blinked down at her, almost surprised. Would that be taking advantage of her? She wasn't exactly in a fragile state, but the leftover guilt made him hesitate, his fingers tangled into her hair. Then he saw the look in her eyes, the need and want for him, the one he'd denied her for so many months. He wouldn't deny her again.

His hands found the zipper of her dress, pulling it down, and she let it fall of off her, staring up at him as he ran his hands up and down her sides, her skin soft and warm. They undressed each other slowly, piece by piece, until they were both bare and then she was tugging him backward, towards the table. Her mind shoved the toaster and plates out of the way and then she let herself fall back onto it, let herself whimper as he fell on top of her, their skin rasping as he looked down at her.

His eyes fell onto the greenish-brown marks that still speckled her neck and throat, a frown darkening his face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning down to kiss one of nastier marks.

His lips found each one, apologies pressed in soft kisses all over her neck and chest as her head fell back and she whined, fingers tangling into his hair. He moved lower and lower, until his tongue was tracing her nipples, nibbling lightly as she gasped and groaned, each kiss and movement gentle and loving.

After a few moments she pulled him back up to her lips, his tongue teasing hers as they kissed so passionately they gasped when they pulled away, breath mingling. Her fingers found the lines of dull brown scabbing that covered his shoulders and back and neck and she felt remorse well up into her eyes as she traced them. The anger that had caused her to draw blood felt so stupid now and she wished she could take it back, heal the wounds she'd caused.

"Mike, I'm sorry," she gazed into his eyes, suddenly distraught, "I hurt you."

"Don't, El, I deserved it. It helped, because I had to think about you and feel it every time I moved or laid down… it made me remember to do better, don't cry." His lips kissed the tears from her eyes. "Don't cry, El, please. I love you and I forgive you."

"I forgive you too," she whispered. "For all of it. It doesn't matter anymore. I love you. I'll never leave like that again."

"Promise?"

Her hands found his face, holding him close as she stared into his eyes. She saw the fear there, the sorrow, the regret and hope, such an intense swirl of emotions she wondered how he was even breathing. But they were the same ones that filled her and with a small, truthful smile, she nodded.

"Promise."

Their lips crashed together again and he scooted her further up the table, his knee hitting the top as he bent over her, pressing against her. Her hips lifted to reach his, wanting what she knew he was ready to give, wanting to feel that warm glow and fiery heat that only brought out in her. She bucked against him, trying to tell him without words what she wanted but failing.

"Mike." It was a gasp. "Please, Mike."

"Are you… sure?" He looked worried.

"Of course. I love you. Let me show you," she whispered.

Her hand went down, gently gripping his hard member and guiding it towards her waiting, eager center. It was the connection she craved, the one they'd always found together, a mere borderline away. With a groan he entered her, pushing in quickly and feeling her shiver beneath him, her head falling back. She was as tight as ever and they both gasped, the stretch and clench too amazingly perfect to bear.

"Ohhh," she whined. "Oh oh oh."

"El, you… you're so beautiful," he kissed the soft skin on her neck over and over. "So goddamn incredible. You're like fucking heaven."

She pulled him down, his face in the crook of her neck as they breathed in the feeling of being connected again. Every inch of him pressed against her, his hands roaming, as if his fingertips were trying to kiss her entire body. He shifted his hips back, slowly, savoring the feeling, of her tight heat gripping him so fiercely.

They were a matching lock and key, made for each other, and he moved back in just as slowly, hearing her whine. It was his favorite sound, the breathy groan of his name, and she only said it that way when they were like this. He craved it, her noises, her body pressed flush against his, her silken thighs against his hips as he plunged into her over and over. It really was heaven, his own personal slice.

"Ohhh, Mike—oh!"

He thrusted harder, knowing she liked it harder than softer, the passion burning brighter as he leaned back, her hands around his waist, looking down at her. She was staring up at him with peaked brows, her eyes wide, mouth open as she gasped and panted. It was too much, too perfect and beautiful, and he pushed his face into her neck again, groaning against her and setting his elbows on either side of her.

"M-More—please!" She begged willingly, wanting more. "Huh-harder."

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered.

"You won't."

He did as she asked, rolling his hips deeper into her, giving her his all, squeezing his eyes shut as she clenched and fluttered, getting closer and closer to that delicious burst of heat she was wanting. He wanted it too.

"El," he panted. "El, I love you so much. I'll never lie to you again. I can't lose you." His voice broke, sudden tears filling his eyes. "Please, don't leave me."

"I won't, Mike. I promised."

His tears dripped onto her neck and her breath stuttered, her own tears of relief and forgiveness and joy spilling over. He moved even faster, her hips lifting to meet his and they were one as they whispered their love to each other, together in every possible way. His apologetic tears were met with kisses of love and forgiveness until it was too much and her head fell back against the table.

"Mike… _Mike_ ," she sobbed his name, tears of gladness and overwhelming pleasure streaming from her eyes. "I love you, I love you."

"El, I—" He pulled back from her neck enough to meet her glistening eyes.

" _Mike_!"

Her walls clenched around him, tight and tighter and tightest, and then she sobbed out a loud cry, his name again, her chest heaving as she came. Her eyes never left his, her brow creasing as she gripped onto him, his hips never stopping their passionate rhythm, determined to make her feel every breath and groan that issued from his lips.

It was too much, the love and trust and pure euphoria that glowed from her brown eyes, and he grunted as she squeezed one last time, his own pleasure reaching its climax. With a final thrust he let go, bursting into her as his voice ripped from his throat in one precious, love-filled word.

" _El_ ," he cried out for her.

His vision whited out, buzzing filling his ears as he fell, barely catching himself on his elbows before he crushed her. It took him a second but he felt small, familiar hands cupping his face, soft lips pressing kisses to his cheeks and nose before tucking him back against her neck.

He was still crying, he realized, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't believe she had forgiven him, that she still wanted him, to touch her and taste her and give her pleasure. The months of guilt poured down his cheeks, her fingers wiping them away as his arms held her, clutched her really, trying believe it was real.

She was with him. It was real.

"Mike, Mike," she whispered. "It's okay, it's alright. I love you. I forgive you. I love you, Mike."

"El," he cried harder. " _El_."

It took several minutes but she was patient, soaking in the pure love and adoration that poured out of him in waves, letting his tears stain her skin and kissing away the doubts. Her eyes stared up at the soft white lights strung over her, her hands stroking his hair as he held onto her. He had done it for her, all of it. The extra hours of work, the suffering and pain, had been for her, so he could tell her how much he loved her.

 _I wish I had known_ , she mused. _It would have saved us so much pain_.

But she decided to let it go, to let the rain wash it away as she stared at the twinkling lights and held the man who held her heart. He always had. He always would.

He was also kind of crushing her ribs a bit.

"Mike, um," she felt bad, not wanting to make him move but needing him to. "It's a little hard to breathe, could you…?"

"Oh, sorry."

She reluctantly released the grip on his head and he pushed up, pulling out of her finally and then looking a bit embarrassed at just how much he'd been crying. He wiped his face and she sat up too, scooting closer, tucking herself into his side and sighing. She didn't want to let him get too far, wanting to feel his warmth pressed against her. His arm wrapped around her automatically and then there was kiss on her sweaty forehead.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "You didn't have to forgive me."

"You didn't have to forgive me either," she shrugged. "But you did and I love you and I just want all of that to be over."

His breath caught in his throat. "I don't deserve it. Any of it. Or you."

"Maybe not. But it's not about what we deserve, it's about what we want." She looked up at him, eyes wide. "And I want you. No matter what."

His face crumpled, like he was ready to cry again, but she shook her head and cupped his cheeks in her hands, wiping his tears with her thumbs.

"No more, Mike. It's over."

"It's over," he repeated. "Does that mean… you want to come home?"

She paused, not considering the question, but the wording. In her life she'd always struggled with that word, home. In some ways it was places, Hawkins and several of the houses that lined its streets. Their apartment in the city. The bed she once shared with her sister.

But she had realized more than once that it wasn't a _place_ , it was the people. Her dad and stepmom were home. Her stepbrother and their friends were home. Mama and Aunt Becky were a home too, even Kali had become home for a while. In the end, though, there was always one face that appeared first, the first one to look at her with hearts in his eyes and warmth and understanding.

"Mike… I'm always home when I'm with you. It's why I felt so lonely when you… you stopped." She didn't need to say it, it was in the past now. "I had lost my home."

"Never again," he promised.

Suddenly he startled, looking over, to where they'd been standing. He hopped off of the table and scurried over, reaching to pick something off of the floor. El stood too, confused and suddenly very aware of the fact that they were both naked. Mike didn't seem bothered.

He turned to her and she saw something sparkle in his hands, remembering the beautiful ring he had offered to her as collateral for her broken heart. She met him halfway, hand reaching to touch it, but he smiled playfully and held it out of her reach.

"Wait, I want to see that," she pouted, trying to grab his hand but failing since she was so much shorter. "Mike… come on."

"Hang on, I was about to be romantic."

"You said you got it for me, I want to see it."

"El, wait—"

She didn't, leaping and crashing into him, knocking him over. They both fell, onto the floor, and she laughed as she wriggled and crawled over him, trying to reach the shiny metal he had gripped in his fingers.

"Hey!" He yelped. "You're making this hard!"

"Why can't I see it?"

"Quit jabbing me with your elbow and I'll tell you."

She pouted but sat up, half on top of him, and he sat up too, shaking his head at how cute she was, grinning despite his sudden nerves. He took a deep breath and then glanced down, too afraid to meet her eyes.

"El, um, do you think maybe, if we're okay now, that you might want to marry me?"

His voice squeaked and he flinched at his terrible wording. So much for a romantic proposal. Sitting naked on the floor of his parent's basement hadn't been ideal. At least the lights looked pretty.

"You… still want to marry me?" she gasped. "After what I did at the party?"

"Well, yeah… I mean, I forgave you. I trust you," he said simply. "I love you."

"I… I…"

She was speechless and he cleared his throat to try again, taking her surprise and inability to form words as a good sign. It usually meant she was happy.

He sat up a bit, trying to get onto one knee, holding the ring out to her like an offering. His eyes were shining and he swallowed nervously, smiling at the women he'd loved since he was a boy, reaching out to tuck one of her crazy curls behind her ear.

"Marry me, El. Let me promise to love you forever. To take care of you forever," he pleaded, wanting her to know it wasn't about wanting to own her but about wanting to be able to love her for the rest of his life. "I won't fuck up like this again, or… I'll try really hard not to. I'm not perfect," he winced, "but I love you and I know I always will."

"Mike." Her eyes were big as moons.

"Marry me, _please_. I love you, El."

She stared, making his hands shake and his stomach drop and his mouth to go dry as he realized it was too much too soon. How could expect an answer to that after what had just happened? He'd only just convinced her he hadn't cheated, there was no way she would—

" _Yes_."

He froze, every muscle tense.

"Yes, Mike. I want to marry you." She was was suddenly wrapping her arms around his neck, tears of joy filling her eyes. "I want to love you forever too. I want to be with you, I want to be yours. I want to try again."

"Really?" He croaked.

"Yes. Yes, yes… yes!"

They were kissing again, swollen lips uniting as they silently reminded each other of the love they'd always shared, suddenly tripled as he offered her his heart and his life. Somehow the ring made it onto her finger and then she was curled against his chest, listening to his heart beat in her ear as they lay on the carpet on the floor. Her leg wrapped around his and she rolled onto his chest, the previously embarrassing nakedness suddenly the most comfortable thing in the world.

She asked him about work, if it meant he would take less shifts now and he mentioned wanting to save up for a car next. So she wouldn't have to walk everywhere but also for road trips as well, mentioning that he wouldn't mind taking her to down to beach in the gulf, wanting to do more with her and take care of her again.

"I'll take more shifts too," she offered. "So you don't have to be tired all the time. We can work for it together."

"You don't have to—"

"Mike," she warned. "I don't want you to be that tired again. If you want to save up we can but I want to do it _together_."

He looked like he wanted to protest, not wanting her to have to work more. But he realized that she _wanted_ to, that she wanted to help as much as he did and that she was right. They were a team. His secret to buy her ring had been one thing, but planning a trip south could be something they both worked for. And it would make her happy.

"Yeah, okay. Let's go to fucking DisneyWorld. I want to take you on Space Mountain," he grinned.

A smile lit up her face, that real smile that was more beautiful than anything, the one he'd been wanting to see. Her eyes glowed with excitement for the future and she nodded excitedly, talking about some commercial for DisneyWorld she'd seen and wanting to go meet Cinderella.

They talked longer, rolling over and putting their clothes back on before curling up on the couch, El laying on top of him, snuggled against his neck. He kept his arms wrapped firmly around her, pulling her close and feeling so calm and happy as she told him about what she'd done that week with her mom and dad.

After a bit she quieted and they just rested, tired but happy.

"Mike?"

"Hm?" He tilted his chin down, smiling at her glowing face.

"I love you," she murmured, her chin resting on his chest as she gazed at him adoringly.

Her eyes were bright and clear and free of the fear that had almost torn them apart. Staring at her he couldn't help but grin wider, barely believing what he'd been given so graciously. A second chance to prove his love to her, to have a future with her. To have her love him again.

His heart sighed happily and he pulled her to his lips, kissing her gently, smiling against her soft skin as the words that filled every atom and molecule of his being left his mouth.

"I love you too, El," he murmured. "I'll love you forever."

* * *

 _ **AN:**_

 _ **I won't be writing an epilogue, per say, but there will be one more chapter once I find time again. I knew I was going to get busy today and I'm going to stay busy for a while but writing is what I want to do so I'll always try and make time for it.**_

 _ **Thanks for being patient and for the hordes of wonderful reviews. If you liked this chapter, please let me know! I love specifics too, when ya'll catch little details I throw in it makes me so fucking happy. I guess I just want to know what you like.**_

 _ **That's it for now. Last chapter will hopefully be up by the weekend, but I might not have time to write until Friday evening. Keep an eye out. ;)**_

 _ **~Wyn**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**AN:**_

 _ **This is it, folks. A final check-in. I wanted to just tie up the last few ends so we know where they're at. It's short but sweet. Hope you like it.**_

* * *

There was something tickling El's back, across her shoulder and then to her neck. With a huff she tried to shift away but a warm hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her back, something warm and solid pressing up against the back of her bare skin. Her eyes blinked open sleepily and she felt herself smile softly as she realized they were tickly kisses, the arm squeezing her gently from behind.

Mike.

"Mmmmmnnno," she groaned, hiding her face in her pillow. "I'm sleeping."

"I've been waiting for you to wake up," he murmured into her ear, kissing her messy hair that was tangled everywhere.

She sighed but gave up and rolled over, looking up at his grinning face, his hair looking just as wild as hers, his arm still around her waist. It was Saturday morning and they'd been working extra shifts the past two weeks after their return from Hawkins. Weekends were less of luxury and more of a necessity, the two day break the only thing keeping them from going crazy.

But now, at least, they were tired _together_ … for more than one reason.

"Good morning," he smiled, kissing her forehead.

"Hmph," she grumped. "What time is it?"

"Almost ten. I thought that was enough sleep? But I was hoping we could—"

"Three times last night wasn't _enough_?" she whined, feeling suddenly exhausted all over.

Mike laughed. "I was going to say I was hoping to take you out for breakfast, El." He kissed her nose. "You deserve something real fancy. Like IHOP."

She stared at him for a second and then she was laughing, slapping his chest and shaking her head at his stupid joke. He was grinning that stupid smug smile and she reached, her fingers tickling his side and wiping the grin right off of his face as he yelped. It turned into an all out tickle fight, both of them laughing and crying and begging the other to stop before El finally managed to pin him down, sitting on his stomach, the sheets completely tangled around them.

They'd already been pretty tangled. Since their reunion in his parent's basement, they'd hardly been able to keep their hands off of each other. El jumped him the second he walked through the door and for a few frantic, sweaty minutes they would forget their exhaustion as they once again reminded each other of their love and devotion.

Being that it had been the weekend, she had surprised him the previous night with that damn maid costume that had started the whole mess and it had turned into more of a marathon than a one and done kind of thing. She wasn't sure where the costume had ended up but she had a feeling it was ripped past repair this time, grinning down at her laughing fiancé as she kept him pinned to the bed.

"So you want to take me to IHOP? Are you tired of _me_ always making _you_ breakfast?" she challenged.

"...Maybe," he conceded, looking embarrassed. "I mean, after all your hard work, I feel like I should be the one treating you for once. And not a shitty, burned breakfast."

She kissed his cheek and climbed off of him, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and then stretching, not minding that she was pretty much naked. One of the cuffs of the costume had somehow managed to stay on her wrist, and she looked down at it and unsnapped it, letting it fall to the floor.

"You're really good at pouring cereal into a bowl," she teased him over her shoulder. "And toasting Eggos. No one makes Eggos better than you."

"Really?"

"Yes."

He sat up too, just as naked as she was, and then scooted himself behind her, pulling her close and kissing her neck, up to her ear. She leaned back against him automatically and let out a long sigh, her eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. Her hand went up, covering his that was resting on her shoulder, and he smiled at the ring that sparkled on her fourth finger. Part of him wanted to wrestle her back on the bed and throw her legs over his shoulders and make her feel good again, but she had sounded generally alarmed at the thought of going another round and he figured she deserved a break.

"Do you just want Eggos then?" he asked as he pulled back.

The spell broke and she stood, walking over to the dresser and pulling out some underwear and putting them on slowly as she contemplated the question. She grabbed a pair of boxers and tossed them to him as she turned back around.

"Going out sounds kind of nice. Maybe that diner around the corner?" She was digging for clothes, finding her favorite pair of denim overall shorts and a yellow and white ringer t-shirt in another drawer. "They have good coffee."

"Better coffee than your shop?"

"Psh, no. But they have better food."

He joined her, pulling on a short sleeve striped polo shirt and some khakis, turning and looking at their destroyed bedroom and wondering where his keys and wallet had ended up. Probably by the front door with his pants… where'd jumped her after she'd sashayed out of the hallway in the cheap looking getup. That _hot as fuck_ getup. She definitely knew how get him going now that he was no longer holding himself back and he grinned as he looked over at her while she finished changing.

She caught sight of her hair in the mirror on the back of their door and shuddered. He reached up and felt his own hair, realizing that he probably didn't look any better. She sighed.

"We're showering the second we get back."

"Together?"

"If you really want."

"Is that a promise?" He grinned and she smacked him again playfully. "What? It saves water!"

Instead of answering she rolled her eyes and headed for the bathroom, grabbing a ponytail holder and handing him a brush. After a few more minutes they were ready to be seen in public, Mike walking out into the living room area and searching for his pants. They'd made it onto the back of the couch, the rest of their clothing strewn about. The whole apartment was kind of a mess, the tablecloth askew, everything on the kitchen counter shoved to the side, a rumpled blanket on the floor. No place had been safe; tables, chairs, sofas, counters, even the floor, where he'd accidentally given her rugburn on her elbows and knees. He supposed they could clean it when the got back, maybe disinfect all of the surfaces too…

It kind of felt like when they'd first moved in and had broken in every single piece of furniture by screwing each other senseless on top of it. Only now it was less of a challenge and more of a need, the months of abstinence making both of them insatiable. There was no fear of cheating or disinterest anymore. Not even close.

"You ready?"

"Yes," she told him, "let's go."

They left the apartment, locking it behind him, and she slid her hand into his, playfully pulling him along towards the elevator. She was walking backwards, smiling at him, and she rounded the corner without looking first.

"Oof!"

Her back hit something solid and she tripped over her own feet, falling backwards. Strong hands caught her and lifted her before she hit the floor and she turned around in surprise, ready to thank her savior and apologize for not paying attention.

It was James.

"Oh, uh…" she blinked at him, her face suddenly hot with embarrassment. "Thanks?"

"Sure," he shrugged, looking behind her at Mike. "This doesn't count, man. I was helping her out. No harm done."

El looked back too, confused, glancing between the two men and noticing there was a definite tension. The last thing she wanted was another fight and she reached for Mike's hand again, tugging him down the hall a bit. He was staring at James with narrowed eyes, looking clearly aggrieved by the whole encounter.

"Mike, come on, it's fine," she pleaded. "He just caught me. It was my fault."

She was totally embarrassed by the situation, but also a bit angry. James was just… she knew she'd started it, at that party, but he'd taken advantage of her in some way and she could feel his hands on her again when she looked at him. Stupid stupid stupid.

"Listen to your girlfriend, she's actually pretty smart," James countered, backing away, clearly in no more mood for a fight than she was.

"My _fianceé_ , actually," Mike corrected, allowing himself to look smug.

He'd received the impression that James wouldn't have minded them breaking up, more than ready to make a move on El if that happened. But wasn't happening. It never would. She was his more than ever before, and happily so.

El held up her hand shyly to confirm the words, a pleased smile lighting up her face any time she got to show off the ring that sparkled on her hand. James's eyes landed on it and he seemed surprised but nodded amiably.

"Congrats," he said flatly. "I hope you two are happy."

"Yes, we are," El said firmly, tugging Mike's hand again, succeeding in pulling him away this time. "Thanks. Bye."

"See you."

James disappeared around the corner and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Mike was still tense next to her, stopping as she hit the elevator button, and letting out his own long breath. He shook his head.

"Sorry, I just… that guy pisses me off."

"What did he mean by 'This doesn't count'?" she frowned and Mike flushed.

"Oh, well, uh, when you left I ran into him and kind of told him if he ever touched you again I would kill him—"

"Mike!"

"I'm not sorry, El, he's the fucking worst. To be fair he said if I ever punched him again he would throw me off the roof. It's a truce, honestly, but I don't know, technically he _did_ touch you so that means—"

"Nothing," she shook her head. "It means nothing. I don't like him touching me either. It was an accident."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. El pulled him into the small space, towards her, holding both of his hands and looking up at him. Her heart fluttered as she traced his face with her eyes, the bags beneath his eyes starting to fade, his chin and cheeks smooth and stubble-free. He looked less messed up every day and it made her feel better, knowing he wasn't struggling with so many burdens like before.

Neither had hit a floor button but the doors closed and it was just the two of them there, a tiny piece of the world that belonged to just them in the moment. She held up her hand, so he could see what adorned it.

"No one is taking me from you, Mike. I won't let them. I don't want them," she looked down at the shining ring. "I want this and I want you. So don't get yourself thrown off of roofs for me, okay? I'd like to marry you before that happens."

He softened. "I know. It's just him… because he did already touch you. I wish I could hit him hard enough to give him amnesia so he would forget."

" _Mike_ ," she warned.

"Okay, fine. No fighting. Or dying. We have too much to do before that happens, and marrying you is definitely at the top of the list."

She smiled and pulled him down for a kiss, her lips opening up and inviting him in, the heat bursting into flame. He lifted her, pressing her against the wall of the elevator, his hands sliding up under her shirt as she moaned into his mouth, her legs wrapping around his legs. They were all passion and fire, burning trails across each other.

The elevator jolted as it was summoned to a floor and they pulled away from each other with a gasp, realizing the doors could open any second. Mike set her down and the both quickly readjusted their clothing and hair, turning red. He was grinning down at her and she tried not to smile back but failed as they ended up on the ground level. It opened and they scurried out as some old lady got inside. The second the doors closed, El burst into giggles.

"I feel like that should be on some sort of to do list," Mike told her as he took her hand and they headed for the door of the building. "Banging in the elevator before we move out."

"Maybe it if was late enough…" she considered then shook her head. "No, bad idea. We're not doing that."

"Aw, come on, El. It would be an adventure."

"Nope. _In_ the apartment is fine… I'm not getting evicted for elevator sex," she insisted.

They walked hand in hand down the sidewalk, intermingling with the other people, smiling at each other as Mike tried to convince her why it would be a good—or at the very least, _fun_ —idea. By the time they made it to the diner, he was winning, citing that they could do it the night they moved out or something. That made a bit more sense, and she figured maybe taking a risk now and then would be kind of interesting.

"Maybe," she finally conceded. "But that's not a promise."

"Hmph. No fun, you are," he grumped teasingly. "So much for an adventure."

She stopped him before they went inside and right there, in the middle of the busy sidewalk, pulled him down to her lips and kissed him so passionately that people passing by glanced at them. When she let him go, she smiled up at him, feeling so full of love and happiness she was sure she could explode.

"Mike, you _are_ my adventure." Her hand cupped his cheek, the cold metal band on her finger brushing his skin. "Forever."

"Forever," he repeated softly.

Their lips met again and she sighed happily, smiling against him.

Forever.

* * *

 ** _AN:_**

 ** _A bit cheesy, I know, but I like cheesy sometimes._**

 ** _Thank you all for your amazing reviews and comments and support and encouragement. I don't deserve a single one of you but I'm grateful all the same. I'm glad I could make you happy (or in this case sad) with what I write. That's what I love to do, honestly, make people happy. So thank you all for being that source of validation and encouragement._**

 _ **I'm busy, honestly, but I recently had another idea for a story that's in the same vein as this one but less angsty. Something about an older, broken-up Mike and El being in some friends' wedding together or something and dealing with those kinds of resurfacing emotions that they thought they'd left in the past. I have zero written down for it yet, so it could take several weeks before anything is posted for that one, as I like to try and get stories at least halfway written before I start updating. Keep your notifications on if that's something your interested in reading later on.**_

 ** _Until then, I might have a one-shot or two but I'll be on the quieter side. Life is shitty when your job isn't just writing and you have to make time for it. That's all I want to do._**

 ** _If you want to talk about things, feel free to PM me. I'm a slow responder but I do like meeting people. I won't give out plots or anything for my stories but I'll try and get back to anyone who wants to talk!_**

 ** _Thank you all again. I love you, I think._**

 ** _~Wyn_**


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